The paintball wars

As they were called

Became a lot of fun

And it all started

When the White House was still white

In two-thousand, one-hundred and sixty one

Modern Warfare had become a pest

So the world had laid its guns to rest

But war would still go on

And it was decided that the only way

Was to make it safe and fun

Paintball guns were made

Of every size and grade

Ones that fired pellets and balls

And ones that squirted and sprayed

But the General confessed

That to judge the contest

The military were not the ones qualified best

So they called on the experts of canvas and paint

Who never before did the stench of war taint

Emma Mulsion was called

James Gloss and Mike Satin

All artists and they thought

That it wasn't quite fun, war or art

So they called it -

Fwarting

Fwart warfare it began to evolve

And with a paintball bomb

A problem was solved

As big as the sun?

As big as the moon?

How big you will see,

And you will see soon

No more men would be shot

Or with paint splattered

But whole cities would be covered

And that was what mattered

London, New York and Berlin

Was where the bombing would begin

Giant blimps that carried balloons

Over oceans were floated

Ready to pop

And to be exploded

But every country

Had their own colour

And soon a palette was made

A rainbow of colours

Of numerous colours

Was floating there on display

On a command

The paint that was dammed

Would soon flood over the city

For dry cleaners everywhere

And anyone on washing day

It would be quite a pity

And so they were dropped

The balloons they fell

They popped

Many have said “lets paint the town red”

And never was this more true

But more than that did they paint the town

With every colour from orange to blue

Of course the paint got mixed in places

Giving everyone, everywhere, multi-coloured faces

Mystified, everyone was dyed

From their feet up to their eyes

And though they tried to have the paint removed

They soon found out a point was proved

The artists could not distinguish

One race from another

Daughter from mother

Or sister from brother

Covered in paint the world looked fair

But you couldn't tell who was from where

And in the end no one was sure

What it was they had been fighting for.

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