The Wages Of Sin

Sand stained red, with the wages of sin Soaked with the blood of innocent men Skeletons of machines, dead to the core Lining the roads, covered with gore. Treacherous sands where death lies in wait In the middle of nowhere, by hell's open gate Many have walked in this valley of shadow Numerous unknown and many that we know. Death draws no distinction, partial he's not He'll take anybody, to their funeral plot You cannot fight him, you cannot win He is the ultimate fate of all men. Is it really worth it, when will we learn Not to kill, to maim, ravage and burn Is man the ultimate plague on the earth? If so when we are gone, what's our ultimate worth? We fight with our neighbours, we fight with each other, We fight with our mothers, fathers, and brothers, This cannot go on, the madness must end We must do penance for the wages of sin. 4/19/10 29 palms ca.