Death to that thing! Life to our thing! 
We’re the Mafia for our causes.
We like to keep it in the family
and don’t mind a little blood.

We don’t like to talk much.
Someone’s always listening. 
Or maybe they aren’t but it’s best
to be safe.  They might be.

We claim legitimacy.
We have cover stories,
fronts, deniability — but still,
Death to their things, Life to ours!

We are the worst sort of people
except for all the others.
They say it too, we know,
but they’re wrong to say it.

Death, death, death!  Love
the sound of it — how soft
it ends.  It’s like saying life, life, life —
it’s exactly like it.  Can’t have them separated

by much.  One means the other,
at least in our thing, and death
to the things not ours, life
to ours! This is how
we got here, saying that, being that —

bones in the dirt, blood on the sand,
eyes leaking or picked by the crows —
death is that thing that is also life,
death to their things is life to ours.

So call it brightly family, call it strong.
Call for some to die that others may live
as sensationally well as they possibly can —
death to some things, life to the other ones,

that’s our thing.  It’s everyone’s thing.
We live making the others die for their things
so that ours may live, yes, the ultimate yes
made stronger by the ulitmate no.