There were birds: bloody-red, br that fell like bullets from the sky. br There were trees, smashed and broken, br like headless dolls cut down to size. br And the cold-hearted children, br with hard, ancient eyes, br see the world as a cauldron: br a cut-throat dance of lies... br br There were strange, mutant creatures, br dressed like soldiers in defile. br There were beings, armed and dangerous, br who made murder infantile. br And a young boy who was golden*, br who had no pity in his eyes, br saw the world as a cauldron: br a cut-throat dance of lies... br br In the small town of Jonesboro. br In the schools of Columbine. br Where stalks the secret horrors? br Look around. Explain. Opine. br Who divines when our children, br follow our careless lead, br to model themselves as killers? br Who are the monsters? br Who sows the seed? br br There were old, primal hatreds, br acted out in grim disguise. br There was a brittle, shrill laughter, br heard above the fearful cries. br There were kids, crushed and shaken: br standing wheat cut down with scythes. br And there were cold-blooded children, br with murder in their eyes. br br And the cold-hearted children br had no pity in their eyes.