Our arrogant syncopations become
Bright sunflowers of steel waxing gigantical,
Then, more animated, clash; there....
Have two suns collided?
And tell me has the curtain been pulled down?
Drum
Men go to be murdered like innocent lambs
At the slaughter-house, gentle as beeves or as hams.
Boum, boum—boum, boum, boum.