Woken up by the spilling of the blood
When it splashed on their euro
And signalled the flood
It wasn't some crisis for humanitarian aid
But a blood lined pocket
That broke the facade
Who would say you care when it's been nothing at all
To watch the union countries,
borders grow tall
While the poor, the lazy, the people on your boot
Dry up their funds, and sell off their roof
What could you expect when a borders belly up
An influx of migrants, playing welfare have nots
Among the pretenders real people needing help
But that extremist presence? Guess nothing else
Matters to you when it's your turn to pay
For the carnage you caused from "logistical aid"
The barrel bombs falling, each bought for and paid
With stamps on the side. American made.