The Next Time Peace Broke Out

We drew back an Iron Curtain,
and a blood-stained wall fell down.
The icy-cold had melted
and a barrel-hot peace broke out.
The Balkans' bloody brothers
sowed fallow fields with bones,
and Hutu led the Tutsi
in a mad-machete dance.
Boys spilled blood on diamonds
on the low-road to Freetown,
someone finally told Sid,
as Iraq became Tumbledown.
Now we play Afghan hide and seek
- like Churchill and the Pathan.
If only Gary had got his photos
and the high-bird had limped home,
Nikita would have backed down
and the dominoes stayed up, alone.