Eagles of Death

Steel birds streak through the sky above the Syrian Levant
The pilot flew the plane all the way from Nantes
Explosions rock the cities in this proxy civil war
So many innocents killed, everyone has lost the score
Jean-Pierre fired a missile and was heard to say
He wished he could be home in France at his favorite cafe
Not fighting in a conflict that shows no sign of ever ending
As the Eagles of Death were descending

The bars were filled with people on a balmy Friday night
Out enjoying the weather, having a drink or a bite
Watching football in a stadium, hearing a live band
Washing dishes in a restaurant or shopping for the latest brand
The luckiest ones stayed home, catching a TV show
Not knowing how glad they’d be that they didn’t go
Out that evening to join a war they had just last week been protesting
When the Eagles of Death were descending

The Right is overjoyed, prepared to do their best to try
To use these acts of terror to continue to deny
Asylum for the refugees, who are largely fleeing the same men
Who took over their towns and cities at the very same time when
They escaped the carnage to attempt to cross the sea
To be refused safe haven in the land of fraternity
Where this war that has come home keeps rivening and rending
As the Eagles of Death were descending

Written after the November, 2015 attacks in Paris, France.  The band playing in the venue (the Bataclan Theatre) was from California, and they were called the Eagles of Death Metal.  It’s a joke band name kind of thing, I’m sure, and they don’t even play death metal.  But how eerie that the band playing when these French terrorists decided to start slaughtering everybody had such a name.

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