Snake

Mushroom clouds lifting high
Stretch across sunburned skies
In the fields people die
In the name of something not defined
Look in your head and please tell me
Why’s that place such a mystery?
A crown of thorns, I see you bleed
It’s just yourself you could be losing
People stand there silent, listening
To a snake that won’t stop twisting
Ask it nice to set them free
But the snake just says, “Don’t tread on me”
Got me a plan all worked out
Going to make it happen, stick around
It’s the kind of plan that never fails
Got the devil’s help on the details