The Resort Beyond the Last Resort - Collapsing Scenery, Uniform

You’re prized in your circle for old-fashioned ways

We can’t see the ceiling;

your boot’s in the way

The twentieth century ran by your rules

The twenty-first looks like it might follow suit

You just itch to get the job done

You’re expedient and foolish, too

Kill a man and claim the war’s won

Back in the shadows where we can’t see you

You wither in the open

You shrivel in the sun

To you, negotiation

Is the barrel of a gun

Left with a choice between reason and rhyme

You’ve made it clear, you’ll choose rhyme every time

You know what they say about history and farce

But your tragedies were a farce from the start

You stumble into situations

You couldn’t recognize the right track

Your shortsightedness is stunning

Always a step behind the blow-back

You wither in the open

You shrivel in the sun

To you, negotiation

Is the barrel of a gun

It’s too deep for us to take