Full Stop

The pulse of life gets slower at each beat
    And as we can control it all with pills
Too soon our victory will be complete.

Now that sweet milk is poison from the teat
    - A mother's only a machine that kills -
The pulse of life gets slower at each beat.

The dagger glistens up the crowded street
    Admired by the steady hand that drills -
Too soon our victory will be complete.

For those who die it is no use to greet
    The emperor - he's green about the gills;
The pulse of life gets slower at each beat

And we don't stop to hear the stray lambs bleat
    But let them lose themselves among the hills;
Too soon our victory will be complete

And sad, slow nature must admit defeat;
    As we point blank refuse to pay her bills
The pulse of life gets slower at each beat -
Too soon our victory will be complete.