This is the Ministry, Of Defence
Stairs and walls are, all that's left
Mortar holes let, through the air
Kids do the same thing, everywhere
They've sprayed graffiti, in Arabic
And balanced sticks, in human shit
This is the ministry, of remains
Fizzy drinks, cans, and magazines
Broken glass, a white jawbone
Syringes, razors, a plastic spoon
Human hair, a kitchen knife
And a ghost of a girl, who runs and hides
Scratched in the wall in, biro pen
This is how the, world will end
There's the bus depot, to the right
Levelled like a, a building site
Those are the children's, cries from the dark
These are the words, writ under the arch
Scratched in the wall, in biro pen
This is how the, world will end