This is the Ministry, Of Defence Stairs and walls are, all that's left Mortar holes let, through the air Kids do the same thing, everywhere They've sprayed graffiti, in Arabic And balanced sticks, in human shit This is the ministry, of remains Fizzy drinks, cans, and magazines Broken glass, a white jawbone Syringes, razors, a plastic spoon Human hair, a kitchen knife And a ghost of a girl, who runs and hides Scratched in the wall in, biro pen This is how the, world will end Solo There's the bus depot, to the right Levelled like a, a building site Those are the children's, cries from the dark These are the words, writ under the arch Scratched in the wall, in biro pen This is how the, world will end