Don’t you raise your rifle, boy,
It will change the way you see.
Don’t take aim, he’s just a child
And this desert belongs to him.
Don’t you raise your rifle, boy,
the future is at stake. Yours and his
Are intertwined, so leave your arms
At your side.
Don’t you raise your rifle, boy;
His friends want to live as well.
The sand has drunk it’s fill
Of blood, it does not need theirs too.
Don’t you raise your rifle, boy, 
Let their laugh-song carry on.
They do not wish to take your life;
Your instinct led you astray. Your heat-dreams
Have changed even children into horrors;
The price is too high and 
rising still.
Don’t you raise your rifle, boy;
He’s a child like you were once.
If you can both grow to be good men
This war may end one day.
Don’t you raise your rifle, boy,
You’ll forever view him through iron sights.
The fear and violence in your heart
Will become a feast for consuming regret;
Making every dark corner remember
Your intent, and take
Aim back at you.
Don’t you raise your rifle, boy, 
you can become human again.
The hate that the desert taught you has
Not reached permanence.
Don’t you raise your rifle, boy;
There is no bomb on his chest. It is filled
With joy and wonder that you must
Let go on.
Oh, boy, you raised your rifle;
committed to the sin. The sun has risen
on your fear and set
On the child’s hope.
Now that you’ve raised your rifle, boy,
The memory will haunt you as a man.
Tear your dreams to bloody death
and drown you in shaming sweat.
You raised your rifle and so are doomed
To dread and ruminate; to lie and rot, and wander
Lost while forever taking aim.
You raised your rifle, boy, 
And, though you both survived-
The price was too high and
The cost is rising still.