I pressed down the lever gently,

And stared at the metal intently,
Summoning the ghosts of the past.

Which was convenient and fast;
It took no effort, not a shred,
To bend the armies of the dead,
To make them cave to my will,
To utilise their blood until,
There is none left for me to use
Nothing left for me to abuse.

Til’ their bones are gone and nothing’s left,
To prompt me into awful theft,
Until there’s nothing left to dig,
And I run dry the oil rig,
To dredge up their resting place,
And destroy ‘most every trace,
That it was there before human kind,
And if I deigned to look, I’d find,
Dinosaurs and knights among the dead,
That I have so carelessly bled.

One may say that it’s demeaning,
To use the dead for my cleaning,
But it’s so easy, takes no thought,
When it’s easily sold and bought,
Yes, my army will soon diminish,
Though I’ll command them to the finish,
I think as I see that the dead,
Have properly toasted my morning bread.