She comes down the road, naked and running. <br />Her body is burning, the planes are still bombing. <br />This picture has long stayed locked in the brain, <br />The little girl fleeing the chemical rain. <br /> <br />The gunships unload their cargoes of fear. <br />The apocalypse now, through terror and tears. <br />They said the napalm just washed off the skin <br />So they added a substance to burn it right in <br /> <br />The Doctor is dead, lying face to the ground. <br />The Doctor is dead, a conscience unbound. <br />The Doctor is dead, with his poisoned career. <br />In the silence of death they're raising a cheer. <br /> <br />Thousands of bodies struck still in a town, <br />No desert wind is raising them now. <br />A killer hangs unseen and unsmelled <br />Supplied to a tyrant by the Angels of Death. <br /> <br />The Doctor is dead, lying face to the ground. <br />The Doctor is dead, a conscience unbound. <br />The Doctor is dead, with his poisoned career. <br />In the silence of death they're raising a cheer <br /> <br />Whose knowledge and skill help these nightmares arrive? <br />While industrial death pours from the skies. <br />The masters of war are still beating their drums <br />And it's the one in the suit who's firing the gun. <br /> <br />The Doctor is dead, lying face to the ground. <br />The Doctor is dead, a conscience unbound. <br />The Doctor is dead, with his poisoned career. <br />In the silence of death they're raising a cheer<br /><br />David Clinch<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/it-s-the-one-in-the-suit-who-s-firing-the-gun/
