Pyrrhic Victory

Some days are bad And the rest are worse Sometimes it feels like A drunken man's thirst The more you eat The hungrier you get A rich man starves At his own banquet Why do we slaughter the innocent? A stain of cruelty Or Heaven sent? The myth of Sisyphus is one of will Every day Roll the rock up the hill Some lines should never be crossed Some cups should never be filled Think of all - all that was lost The memories that haunt you still Power will always corrupt Glory will always fade Lust and Passion are always fleeting And look at the price you paid Sleeping with porn stars And prostitutes Drowned in Scotch Unable to move A Pyrrhic victory But one you can loose The rock rolls down No matter what you choose Why do we slaughter the innocent? A stain of cruelty - Or Heaven sent? The myth of Sisyphus is one of will Every day Roll the rock up the hill