Money

The money flows

As any fool knows

It finds it's own level

And that isn't in the nooks and the crannies

The hands of fools and wise grannies

It's in the mahogany coffers

Of the old families

At least in the amounts that matter

And here come the Saints

Blessing us with coin

To purchase many things

Influence

Not enough to finish the job

But enough to get started

Softening certain laws

Hardening others

Putting people in positions

To suppress certain responses

It's the long game we played

Not as long as some

But long enough for me

All thanks to the Saints

The coin for the gunrunner

The weapons dealer most rare

Not one

But many

Some looking like bums

Others flashy debonair

The guns you now know of

The bombs not so much

Ten briefcase bombs

Though less like briefcases

More like trunks

Five hundred pound trunks

With Cyrillic writing

Carefully translated

For our careful pleasure

Ten cases of death

Radioactive and unclean

Places near the most troublesome spots

Out of sight and unseen

With luck

None will be the wiser

But if required to show strength

I'll not be the miser

Better to slay one million for a good cause

Than to leave a billion in bondage

The needs of the many

You know the drill

But don't worry your little head over it

I'll be the one to swallow that pill

The Saints of the Revolution

Blessed me with funding

Sharp swords and rabbit holes

Nuclear weapons and rolling armor

Will negate all the debate

And hit much harder

With money under the skids

Helping to accelerate

This Revolution