The setting sun was painted red.
The sky had streaks of gold.
The campsite was all set for bed.
The fire getting old.
The food was good but now was gone,
Just enough to leave an edge,
The time had come for telling tales.
The boy turned to his Pa and said:

Who won the war of Waco, Dad?
Who won the Waco war?
If the truth can set me free
Who won the Waco war?

The man looked at his son and then
Just smiled and shook his head.
You know the story well as I
From what you’ve seen and read.
The time is right to see it all
In a different light.
To quicken your perception
Of what is wrong or right.

So, let’s sit down and come to terms
With what has happened here.
And peel away the layers
And hope the fog will clear.
We’ll never know the truth of this
From what somebody’s said.
By how you judge just what you’ve heard
You’ll quicken or you’re dead.

Who was David Koresh, Dad?
Tell me ‘bout the man.
I know you never met him
But tell me if you can.

Those who knew him best would say
David was a sincere man.
He was strident to a fault
And faithful till the bitter end.
Others saw a different David.
Haughty, vain, and arrogant.
A braggart and a false messiah.
Justifying their contempt.

Those of us that didn’t know him,
Dependent on the evening news,
Swallowed whole the daily pabulum.
Opinions were not ours to choose.
Broken on the wheel of fate,
Dust is all that’s left of him.
Memories linger, good and bad,
Depending on who speaks of him.

Tell me how it started, Dad,
And tell it to the end.
When David met them at the door
Would you say that was when?

The twenty-eighth of February,
Shots fired through a door.
That was how it happened,
The start of Waco’s war.
I didn’t think it much at first,
A raid that had gone bad.
A cult called Branch Davidians,
Their leader had gone mad.

And all those guns were talked about,
All that fire power.
And all those wives and children too,
A king in his high tower.
The ATF had found a man
Who hadn’t kept the law.
Converted certain weapons
With no permit at all.

He had himself a harem
Of all the girls he wanted.
And all the children looked like him,
Seventeen were counted.
That was all I saw at first,
All they let me see.
But events would soon conspire
To show me prophecy.

The cattle trucks they pulled right in,
Unloaded all their men.
They charged the house with weapons drawn,
Eighty black clad men.
“What’s going on? There are children here!”
Is what young Koresh said.
A shot rang out, and “I am hit!”
Was heard, and time stood dead.

But who was shot and when and how?
And what was it all for?
Was that the shot that did it, Dad?
That started Waco’s war?

David was unarmed, of course.
Some men were at the windows.
The ATF in motion
Hadn’t got to set up.
Men were charging toward the door
And more around the side.
Others stood behind the truck.
I am not sure why.

Suddenly, a shot rang out and
“Oh my God. I’m hit”.
Some guy had shot his foot off
And calling for a medic.
That shot had come from someone who
Had clamored from the truck.
The die was cast. The blood was spilled.
The scent of fear and all bad luck.

That was not the plan at all
According to the boys.
“Most the time they fall down
Just cause we make some noise.
We’ll shoot the dogs. We’ll rush the house,
And it will all end here.
And then we’ll go back into town
And have us all a beer.”

They had it timed. All bound and down,
Two minutes flat or under.
Rehearsing it at Ft. Hood,
Training till redundant.
This would be the biggest raid
In their history.
A landmark for the ATF.
A watershed in history.

But it didn’t go like that at all,
Because in all their plans,
They couldn’t see they’d be outgunned,
Though they were not out-manned.
The ATF had fired first,
But they would not admit it.
They blamed the victim for the crime,
And claimed Davidians did it.

That would be an issue later,
On the Hill and in the courts.
Trigger-happy home invaders,
Locked and loaded, just for sport.
“Going to a turkey-shoot”
And “Operation Showtime”,
Just a couple of the phrases
Making it to headlines.

Was Jesus there at Waco, Dad?
Did Jesus see the war?
Did Christ in all his Glory, Dad,
Come into Waco’s war?

The Lord was there, not how you think,
But waiting in the wings.
“Just how you judge is how I’ll judge
You at the end of things.”
The war had started long ago
By Satan’s posturing.
No man is God, none but one,
Nor any created being.

I couldn’t say just what the Lord
Would think of all of this,
But I surmise that this was staged,
For angels not to miss.
Each day another lesson,
All building to the end.
And at the end a moral,
And in the moral, judgment.

The choppers next, you tell me, Dad,
They fired on the house?
With kids inside, and mothers too,
They fired on the house?

The roof was shot, the tower too,
Where David had his bed.
The water tanks were ruptured,
And Winston Blake was dead.
Winston on that morning
 Had breakfast in his bed.
A bullet pierced the drywall
And struck him in the head.

One survivor, Catherine,
Says she was fired upon,
Sitting in the window.
She didn’t have a gun.
She was eighty something then.
Ninety something now.
She’d be proud to tell you
What’s really going on.

The walls and ceilings pierced with holes,
The floor was running red.
Within the first five minutes
Five Branches would be dead.
As for the holes shot through the roof,
And two agents dead from that,
“The choppers didn’t do it”
Is what was later said.

What happened to the young guy,
Up in the water tower?
The one who looked out from the top,
Up in the water tower?

Peter Gent was twenty-four,
Australia his home.
He came here with his family,
Long-time Davidians.
The message is what brought him,
His life about to start.
A sniper in the chopper
Just shot him in the heart.

It was Peter’s job that day
To scrape rust in the tower.
And in the tank they say he was
Working with a trowel.
I don’t know if he was armed
When the trucks pulled in.
The wrong place at the wrong time,
That is what he was in.

How ‘bout the film the agents got
While watching from the house?
You know the one, across the street,
The rented little house.

The A.T.F. had cameras, son.
They took a whole film crew.
The cameras aimed at David’s house
To get a close-up view.
But when the day was over
No film was there to see.
The cameras all malfunctioned,
Just accidentally.

Who would want to lose that film?
Who would profit from it?
Just the guys who tell the lies
To cover up the bull spit.
Who fired first? The shot up door?
The dead, and who shot who?
Three questions would be answered
If not for this hoodoo.

The only film that we did see
Was shown across the nation.
It came from local cameramen,
From a Waco TV station.
We saw it once from live feed,
But after that an edit.
The first sign of a cover-up,
But who should get the credit?

What happened at the front door, Dad?
What happened at the door?
Did David let the agents in?
What happened at the door?

The rushing agents were surprised
That David came right out.
Like setting up an ambush,
Some would later pout.
David got a phone call.
Had time to be prepared.
He sent the people to their rooms,
Hoping to defuse the scare.

As David saw the dogs were shot
A bullet passed his head.
He ducked inside the doorway,
Lest he be filled with lead.
But Perry Jones, an elder who
Was there to stop the war,
Through the door was shot. In pain he was
To live an hour more.

What is friendly fire, Dad?
What is friendly fire?
What is it happens to your friends
When you have friendly fire?

The agents on the roof, son,
On ladders they had climbed.
They broke through into bedrooms,
An action poorly timed.
Three agents in, one agent out,
The guy was there to cover.
Instead he throws a flash grenade,
For two inside it’s over.

Another guy, he bought it,
But never left the road.
The man beside him, gun jammed,
Then suddenly unloaded.
All in all, four men died,
Three were called suspicious.
And twenty agents injured,
Ten were not judicious.

Robert Williams, Steven Willis,
Todd Mc Keehan, Conway Lebeau:
Four men who died the twenty eighth.
Men among the raiding crew.
I shed a tear for these brave men,
Three who died from friendly fire.
They did the only job they knew,
Law enforcement guns for hire.

But they left wives and families
Who grieve for them still today,
And wonder still what it was
That put these soldiers in harm’s way.
What to them was life and death
Was for others politics.
Posing for the cameras
And waving flags. It makes me sick.

In defense of these young men
And men who follow in their steps,
They did what they were told to do
And doing that they met their deaths.
And as for those who planned the raid
And sent these young men on their way.
Their punishment for blundering?
A short suspension with full pay.

You said they shot the dogs, Dad.
The agents shot the dogs?
Did the dogs attack the agents
Before they shot the dogs?

The Branches had some Malamutes.
In kennels they were kept.
And most of them were puppies,
So not a lethal threat.
The written plan said put them down,
But in a gentler way.
When Hell broke loose, the plan forgot,
No mercy shown today.

The pups that didn’t die that day
Were carried into town,
And then to others parceled out.
I know a cop got one.
The six that didn’t make the trip
Were buried in the yard,
Followed sooner than they’d hoped,
By bodies of Davidians.

But didn’t the agents play by rules
To keep the babies safe?
All those babies and their moms,
Shouldn’t they be safe?

Don’t shoot unless you see a threat,
Unless a gun you see.
Protect yourself, protect your friends,
Don’t fire indiscriminately.
But bullets went right through the walls,
And kids and moms were there.
Jaydean Wendell, a nursing mom,
The bullets didn’t spare.

Afterward the children
Would talk of what they saw.
Of windows being shattered,
Of floors on which they crawled.
And even David’s lawyers
Made notes, and they were sure,
Of bullets coming in, not out,
Of the building’s double doors.

What happened next? Do tell me, Dad,
And don’t you spare a word.
I’m old enough to know the truth,
So tell me what you heard.

Other agents ran around,
From the front to back;
Assaulting the gymnasium
In their sneak attack.
Kids were huddled in the halls,
And moms would cover them.
I know some moms were wounded
In protecting them.

The agents broke through windows,
And rampaged down the halls.
Six bullets found Pete Hipsman.
His blood would stain the walls.
And David K. had run upstairs,
A bullet through his hand.
An agent shot him in the hip,
And David couldn’t stand.

How many of the people there
Were wanted by the law?
Were they the bad guys, Daddy?
And wanted by the law?

The warrant listed David,
No other names were there.
One man scared the A.T.F.
So much they took a dare.
“That guy, Koresh. He’s got a cult.
And guns, and girls, and Rock & Roll,
A Harley and a souped up car,
And claims that he can save your soul.”

But the warrant failed to mention
That the guns were lawful.
A local dealer had the license,
And receipts that made them legal.
No one else there was a suspect
For any crimes or any threat.
No one smoked, or drank, or cussed.
They never even made a bet.

But what’s the problem, Daddy?
I know you’ve got a gun.
And we like cars and Rock & Roll.
We like to have some fun.

They like to talk of gun control
As if it really works.
But, works for who? is what I ask.
It’s only self-control that works.
Though they had converted weapons,
It was only tax was owed.
Not a cause to go ballistic
And destroy the Branches’ home.

The problem wasn’t really guns
Or all that other stuff,
But that David called for Judgment,
Said that God has had enough.
And we’re called out of Babylon,
On this the Lord insists.
So if you’re looking for a cult
Try televangelists.

Wasn’t that his right, Dad?
To talk about that stuff?
That’s the message of the kingdom,
And from the God of Love.

You’re right my son, so right you are,
To see it just that way.
It’s in our Constitution
To be free in what we say.
But freedom comes with vigilance.
The price of freedom isn’t free.
There’s a reason for Militias,
The defense of our Liberty

‘Course liberty ain’t license.
That’s why we have the Ten.
Ten as in Commandments,
As valid now as then.
But Babylon has come about
While we have looked away.
And judgment is the thing they fear,
The price they’ll have to pay.

Who was it called the police, Dad?
Who was it called the law?
We heard the 9-1-1 tapes.
Who was it made the call?

Wayne Martin was a lawyer, son.
He lived there with his kin.
His wife and children were right there
With bullets flying in.
“Stop firing! Who’s shooting us?
We haven’t done a thing!
There are women, kids, and old folks here,
Oh God, stop firing!”

Wayne would help negotiate
At times during the siege.
Getting out some children,
Three of them were his.
Loyal to the greater good,
He would stay until the end.
They would find him in the chapel
In the company of friends.
                                                                              Who was the man at 9-1-1?
And what was it that he said?
I know he tried his best to help.
What was it that he said?

The man Wayne called was Larry Lynch.
He’s Waco’s sheriff, now.
He took the call, and heard the shots,
And almost had a cow.
“Who is this, and where are you?
I know something’s gone wrong.
I’ll try to get a cease-fire.
It shouldn’t take too long.”

When did the shooting stop, Dad?
When did they get the call?
With all those dead and wounded,
When did they get the call?

The agents had shut off their phones.
They never got the call.
When they ran out of bullets,
Only then they saw.
“Without our lead our guns are dead”,
The guys were heard to shout.
A call went to the compound,
“We want our wounded out!”

It wasn’t over then, Dad,
You told me that for sure.
But was that all the first day
In Waco’s bloody war?

There’s more to say about Day One
That history won’t tell.
Each witness has a story
Of how they went through Hell.
Each person has a memory
Of all the friends they lost,
The first day and the last day
Of Waco’s holocaust.

Clive Doyle was an elder
With thirty years in trust.
Living through indignities
Would crush the best of us.
Afterward he’d be my friend
And show me where to look.
Mostly in the Bible,
But in some other books.

Wasn’t there another guy?
A guy who lost his life?
He tried to come back to the house,
To his children and his wife?

Mike Schroeder, and his wife and kids,
Lived at Mt. Carmel too.
He went to work that morning
Like other people do.
He had walked home the back way,
After all the days events.
The snipers shot him seven times
And hung him on a fence.

Isn’t that illegal, Dad,
To shoot a man like that?
They could have warned him then to stop,
But shooting him like that?

The snipers were in camouflage,
And all dressed up like trees.
You couldn’t see unless they moved,
The men behind the leaves.
They said Mike Schroeder fired first.
He was one against nineteen.
But Michael didn’t have a gun
Like the one found at the scene.

And then we saw the F.B.I.,
(I told you this before),
The mighty Hostage Rescue Team
Would come into the war.
Fresh from sunny Idaho
They welcomed a diversion.
This wasn’t only business,
This had gotten personal.

The HRT was well prepared
To settle any score.
They were elite storm troopers,
Trained for any war.
They studied assault tactics,
For conflict they were eager.
And recently, at Ruby Ridge,
Killed Mrs. Randy Weaver.

What was up with Randy?
Way up in the hills?
What kind of threat was Randy,
That they should shoot to kill?
The FBI had got a bug
About the Covenant.
A group they called subversive
To lawful government.

They wanted him to spy for them
On Aryan Nations groups.
They entrapped him in a felony,
And then sent in the troops.
His little cabin in the woods,
Besieged by many men.
They shot his friend, his son, his wife,
And tried to do him in.

But he surrendered I was told,
And had his day in court.
And then he sued the FBI,
And won in civil court.

True, my boy, but we’ll call it
A bitter victory.
Because he lost his only son,
And his wife, Vicky.
That should have been a lesson
For the HRT.
A lesson that they never learned
By the Spring of ’93.

The guys in charge at Ruby Ridge
Would all come down to Waco.
Licking wounds that hadn’t healed
From their trip to Idaho.
Now their every movement
Is focused in this fish bowl,
With their pants-seat all ripped out
Exposed to any and to all.

Tell me more about the folks
Who lived inside the house.
Were they a bunch of crazies?
Inside that big old house?

The Branches weren’t crazy,
Or some kind of cult.
They came from many nations,
Just like the Book foretold.
They worshipped on the Sabbath,
That is the seventh day.
They listened to new prophets,
And followed Bible ways.

But what about the stories
We hear some people tell?
They weren’t like the rest of us,
From what some people tell.
Those stories come from ignorance
And fear of the unknown.
And people talk about the faults
Of others, not their own.

Nothing could be said against
 Their rights by common laws.
And their defense of those rights
Is exactly what I saw.
In some ways they were different
And not like you and me.
But hold a mirror to yourself,
And then what will you see?

So, tell me more of what you know
About David’s family.
About the children and their moms,
Were they a happy family?

David was the father
Of many girls and boys.
The children were all schooled at home,
And shared in all their chores.
The mothers, they had made the choice,
To live in just this way.
It’s not for us to judge them
For choices they had made.

There were other families there,
Living for the word of God.
They had come from many nations
To live among the Sheppard’s Rod.
David picked among the women
Those to go to bed with him.
I won’t judge, but I wouldn’t do it.
Won’t open up that can of worms.

Clinton chose to moralize
About our native son.
But it seemed more like jealousy
Of notches for his gun.
Slick Willie had a penchant.
For women he would yearn.
And he had had his women
And his intern, in turn.

Back to topic, I digress,
David had a brood.
And everybody knew it,
Nobody was fooled.
Seventeen, he counted them
On a happier day.
Thirteen who would die with him
And four who were away.

But wasn’t that against the law?
Against the law of man?
“One man, one wife”, is that the law?
According to God’s plan?

The state of Texas does have laws
Against polygamy.
To marry more than one wife
Is known as bigamy.
But David hadn’t married them,
But mated so to bear
Children for the work of God;
In judgment they would share.

I don’t know ‘bout that, Dad.
It doesn’t seem to fit.
Obey the letter of the law,
Or obey the law’s spirit?

Who could know the motives
 of anybody here?
Were they submitting or rebelling?
And to whose authority?
Add the paradox of prophet-hood,
The prophet as a mirror.
So who’s this figure represent?
The sinner or redeemer?

The thing to understand, son,
The lesson to be learned,
It’s not enough to know the law
For God’s grace to be earned.
David’s self-willed actions
Made him to be Pariah.
But God’s will was behind him,
to be Sinful Messiah.

So God told David what to do?
To show that prophesy
Was in the hand of God alone,
To be or not to be?

That’s the long and short of it,
But it’s not over yet.
The judgment’s come upon His church,
Their Maker they have met.
The kingdoms of the world will find
Their judgment soon to come,
Because of their transgressions
Against His true kingdom.

I don’t want to spook you, son.
It’s right here in your Bible.
Mar the branches of His vineyard
And see if God might find you liable.
That’s not to say that these are they.
But they are an example.
A little taste of Judgment Day
That maybe we can handle.

You told me ‘bout the FBI,
About the ATF.
They said there was a drug lab,
And someone making Meth.

The Constitution says that we,
(Beholden to the law),
Cannot attack civilians
With Army troops and all.
But Posse Comitatus
Is pushed aside you see,
To deal with terrorists and drugs
Wherever they may be.

What they wanted was to get
The military tools.
They took advantage of a rule
To circumvent the law.
 I can’t say there were no drugs
Because I wasn’t there.
But evidence was never found
Or witnesses to bear.

But weren’t they mistaken
‘Bout David and the drugs?
What evidence did they present
About him and the drugs?

In searching for a reason
To get a special warrant,
Liberties they took with rules,
And said things that they shouldn’t.
There was once some kind of lab,
But David tore it down,
And gave it to the Sheriff,
And this was not unknown.

So they lied about the drugs,
To make a guy look bad.
And then they did those awful things.
It really makes me mad!

The siege just started on that day
In Nineteen Ninety-three.
It would continue fifty more,
Till April the Nineteenth.
A date we will remember,
With memories so vile.
I’ll tell you more about it,
But in a little while.

A siege of fifty days, Dad?
A siege of fifty days?
How could those people hold out
For all those fifty days?

They had a lot of canned goods,
And lots of MRE’s.
(A kind of Army ration,
Meals, Ready to Eat.)
Their water tanks were empty,
Because of bullet holes.
They collected rainwater
In buckets and in bowls.

As for the intangibles,
Who can gauge the spirit?
They’d seen this day from far away.
It wasn’t unexpected.
They found it in the Bible,
About an open seal.
A singular occurrence
That they’d be passing through.

And living in that knowledge
They had been prepared
To face the beast of Babylon.
Not that they weren’t scared.
Their vision of the outer world
 Might seem to be askew.
Between a rock and hard place,
 What were they to do?

Why didn’t they surrender, Dad,
As early as they could?
They knew they were surrounded,
And they were stuck but good.

They prayed and talked it over,
Some wanted to give in.
The FBI said “Come on out”.
Koresh said, “Don’t come in!
I’m sending out some people,
And a message too.
I’m hoping in the meantime,
God tells me what to do.”

   But what was in the message, Dad,
The lady carried out?
Could that have helped to settle things,
The message that came out?

“Please play this on the radio,
So coast-to-coast might hear,
A desperate plea to save your souls,
Because the end is near.”
The FBI was cautious,
Just played it locally.
Then said in press conference,
“Just Bible babble-ing.”

Somewhere you may find a tape
And hear what David said.
Not a load of nonsense
As FBI has said.
He summarized the conflict,
And told them where he stood.
Not that they would listen
Or mean him any good.

Was there a voice of reason, Dad,
In all of this to-do?
Who would stand up and tell them,
“Let’s stop, and think this through”?

The media came on the scene
To question their intentions.
Wasn’t there a peaceful way
To put David in detention?
Where’s your warrant? What’s your hurry?
Who, what, where, when, why, and how?
What justifies the Nazi treatment?
The public wants to know, and now.

The people shouted from the left,
“Our civil liberties”!
The people shouted from the Right,
“Second Amendment, please”!
The press was quick to question
The illegalities.
The front man for the FBI
Said “No” to all of these.

Did they take no for answers
To questions that were fair?
Where were our basic freedoms?
When it was time to care?

The press was told each morning
Just what they could report.
To demonize Davidians,
And ridicule for sport.
“And if you want to keep your job,
You’ll do just what we say.
Just question our authority,
And there’ll be Hell to pay.”

There were independent men
Who chose what to report,
Advocates of justice,
Defenders of the poor.
Barred from main-stream media,
They fed from other sources.
Uncovering the evidence
And following its courses.

Wasn’t there some conflict
Within the rescue crew?
The FBI, the ATF,
Negotiators, too?

“Are you coming to kill me”?
The voice of a child inside.
“Are you coming to kill me”?
The voice of a child who died.
“No, honey. No one will hurt you.
That’s my promise to you.’
But it wasn’t his decision,
What others were to do.

It took me years till I forgave,
If only just to save myself.
I gave it all to God and hope
He doesn’t give to someone else.
Was it all just happenstance?
Mistakes with good intentions?
Or hardened hearts set to prevail
Behind all those pretensions?

They benefit of doubt should go
To those negotiators.
But we have more to say about
The tactical invaders.
Despite the best intentions of
The men who manned the phones,
Others on the rescue team
Had motives of their own.

The ATF had been there first,
And they had lost four men.
And twenty more were injured.
There’s motive for revenge.
Then insult compounds injury
When they are pushed aside.
The FBI took over,
An offence to their pride.

The FBI inherited
The stigma left to them.
Through the siege they dealt with
Somebody else’s problem.
That’s not to say the FBI
Were not there for a rumble.
The HRT were highly trained
And very rough and tumble.

 But didn’t it get worse, Dad,
For all those folks inside?
The FBI had dirty tricks
For all those folks inside.

  They cut off the electric.
There was no water, too.
They brought in big ol’ spotlights,
And Miss Sinatra, too.
“These boots are made for walking,
And that’s just what they’ll do.
One of these days Jack-booted thugs
Are gonna walk all over you”!

Late at night they’d play the sounds
Of rabbits being slaughtered,
Or helicopters over head,
Or tanks engaged in battle.
And all the while delighting
In Torture 101,
Deciding to take umbrage
At Branches hanging on.

People started coming out
Within a couple days.
Didn’t things get easier
With people coming out?

You’d think it would get better
Negotiating peace.
But that was just the scent of blood
To Federal police.
“To Hell with small concessions,
A little at a time.
We want you all, and right away.
We’re on our own timeline.”

But that’s not acting Christian, Dad.
No need to be that way.
They were getting what they wanted,
And more from day to day.

But no, it just was not enough,
To sit and wait them out.
With forty out and ninety in,
The pressure they would mount.
They wrapped the house in barbed wire.
They drove the tanks around.
They lit the night with big spotlights,
And terrorizing sounds.

And every father’s daughter
And every mother’s son,
Should thank the Lord they weren’t there
To witness what was done.
All night without a wink of sleep,
And this was every day.
The ground itself was trembling
As tanks would pass their way.

The children were so frightened, Dad.
It must have been so bad,
To live through all that terror.
Again I’m getting mad.

I got mad too, and stayed mad.
Because of what I saw.
I tossed a brick through my TV,
And cursed them one and all.
But what’s a man to do, dear?
What’s one man to do?
They say you can’t fight City Hall
With Big Brother watching you.

But all the time they had to wait,
What did the people do?
Was it the same from day to day?
With never something new?

We all fall into patterns,
And life goes on that way.
Even with the tanks outside
They went through every day.
The children still were home-schooled.
They still had time to play.
And all would Bible study
For hours every day.

Who was the man who led the siege?
Who took responsibility?
Who led negotiations?
Who made the strategy?

The President, he was brand new.
He didn’t start the plan.
And Janet Reno came in late,
So she is not the man.
William Sessions, he was barred
From getting on his plane
And flying straight to Waco.
But who can stop the rain?

And Larry Potts, Dick Rodgers too.
You’ll find them in a book.
Needless to say they found a way
To slip right off the hook.
And Byron Sage and Jeff Jamar,
They passed the buck some more.
“We’re only following orders”.
We heard somewhere before.

So no one ever took the blame?
No one was at fault?
“It wasn’t me. It wasn’t he”.
The buck was passed by all?

But that is not the case at all.
They all would take the blame.
They all said “Mea Culpa”,
But it came out the same.
They all said  ”Hey come look at me.
Ignore the simple fact,
The men behind the curtain
Were behind the act.”

The men behind the curtain?
Who could these bad guys be?
And now you’re gonna tell me
‘Bout some conspiracy?

“History’s conspiracy”
Is what some wise man said.
“It’s written by the winners,
Not written by the dead”.
Some say that stuff … just happens,
And then we make it fit.
Our molded preconceptions,
Our minds make sense of it.

So tell me it’s the Masons, Dad.
Or tell me it’s the Jews.
The Big Bad Wolf, the Bogeyman,
Or just the Evening news.

There’s time enough to talk of that,
The hidden history.
And fun to play connect the dots
And expose the mystery.
And doing that you crack the code
And see what others see.
Others not unlike yourself,
Lovers of true history.

And speaking of conspiracy
And all that it entails.
Dusting stuff for fingerprints,
Rooting through their mail.
Peeking through the window.
The night should hold its’ breath.
And if you knew the half of it,
You’d be scared half to death.

The old men in the power seat,
They will a thing to be.
And power thirsty minions
Would bring it all to be.
 Wouldn’t you know, about the time
They set to do the deal,
Someone drops the monkey wrench
And messes up the wheels.

It’s not as simple as all that,
To plan and then to act.
When things go wrong, they cover butt,
Then cover up the facts.
“Where there’s smoke there’s fire”
Is what some people say.
But where you find conspiracy,
The smoke and mirrors play.

Now you have me all confused.
I don’t know what you mean.
The good guys bad, the bad guys good?
Or somewhere in between?

I’d like to say that you’ll find out
When you are older, dear.
But chances are like chances are.
Some things are never clear.
But now, back to our story.
It’s nearly time to see,
How events would conspire
To confirm God’s prophesy.

I hope you tell me, Daddy,
How this was meant to be.
Because without a reason,
It’s just a tragedy.

Let’s finish with the facts first,
How history played out here.
How David fought Goliath.
He fought him to the death, dear.
Just let me finish talking,
And then I hope we’ll find
The meaning in the message
That David gave mankind.

The FBI was tired, now,
Of all the talk and talk.
The time had come for action,
So let the BS walk.
They took a plan to Reno then,
“The kids are being hurt”!
They had a plan to save them,
Disaster to avert.

“We gas them first, and move them
Where we could get close in.
Then we’ll rush and grab them.
This plan we think will win”.
“But what about the chance of fire;
The building, will it burn”?
“The gas, it isn’t flammable”.
A lie, we later learn.

But meanwhile in the compound,
David got the word.
He’ll write a little book about
The seven seals of God.
“Send in a word processor,
And send in batteries, too.
I’ve finally got permission
To pass God’s word to you.”

“Yeah, right, Koresh”, they snickered,
Behind there hidden hand.
“We think the guy is stalling.
Let’s follow with our plan.”
“We’ve got some time to give you.
We’ll send in what you need.
Send out a chapter at a time.
Just something we can read.”

The tanks they kept on rolling
And pushing cars away.
A firebreak they’re making,
Preparing for that day.
The CS gas was ordered,
And booms put on the tanks.
A deadline was established,
And filtered through the ranks.

Inside a celebration,
That God had shown a way.
A peaceful resolution,
And mercy shown today.
“Our prayers have all been answered.
Our God has heard our plea.
We’ll pack our bags, and pack a lunch,
And come out, peacefully.”

But that was not to happen.
It wasn’t in the plan.
The day was now upon them.
The time was now at hand.
But sleep had come upon them,
What dreams they must have had!
Fifty days of torture
Had ended. They were glad.

Now dawn had come and with it,
The tanks came rushing through.
To break in walls and windows,
And pump the gas in, too.
One corner of the building
Was crushed, in films we’ve seen.
The trapdoor to the buried bus,
Where fresh air would have been.

The bullhorns were a’blarin’
“This is not an assault!
We’re making us some openings,
So come on out, you all.

Your fifteen minutes are over.
And you are not Messiah.
Vernon Howell, you’ve got to go,
Or you will soon expire.”

The tanks, they kept on punching holes,
And pumping gas right in.
In back, tearing the building down,
What used to be the gym.
Someone tried to use the phone,
To negotiate.
The tanks had cut right through the line,
So it was just too late.

But Dad, I’ve really got to know,
About the Delta force.
Were they involved that final day,
That super secret force?

Was Delta force inside the house?
I really couldn’t say.
But later someone bragged about
The things he’d done that day.
And someone else would overhear,
And so the story spread.
Five agents of the Delta Force
Had walked among the dead.

Rumor had the men in black,
Protected from the gas,
Placing bombs inside the house.
We later saw the blast.
Names of men were given,
Who had participated.
But they had died in accidents,
“Completely unrelated.”

The women and the children
Had hidden in the vault.
And huddled all together,
And prayed God help them all.
A tank pushed through the building,
To spray that little room.
Thirty-five would die in there,
The gas would spell their doom.

The kids inside the “bunker”,
None would have a mask.
They never had a chance
Against the CS gas.
The gas would come from “Bradleys”,
In special pumping booms.
They pierce the walls and then inject
The gas into the rooms.

Why was this room so special
That all the moms would gather?
The room was made of concrete.
Protection that would matter.
But it had no windows,
And when the gas came in,
It smothered moms and kids and all.
The gas would do them in.

The chapel was assaulted next,
The front doors pulled away.
They played a role as evidence,
The bullet holes displayed.
Ten men were in the chapel,
And five would get away.
But five would die in smoke and flame,
And never see today.

The church had once been filled with those
Who studied seven seals.
The Lamb that would become the Beast
Would teach of “wheels in wheels.”
To break the codes of the last book,
To find the truth therein.
The seals would open one by one,
In judgment they were sharing.

“But Judgment comes to My house first”
Is what the Good book says.
For knowledge of the Judgment,
Judgment you must face.
The truth is not academic,
No sitting on the fence.
The key to Revelation
Is in the experience.

The last place that the tanks would go,
A corner rather windy.
And when the fire started
It worked just like a chimney.
And when the fire touched the gas
There was a fireball.
The smoke poured out the windows.
The flames went down the halls.

You’ve heard about the FLIR tape?
It films in infrared.
Black is cool, and white is hot,
And shades of gray between them.
At a crucial time it caught,
(Just like a candid camera),
The gunshots going in and through
Walls of the cafeteria.

An airplane flying overhead
Would film the fatal fire.
And show the world, in infrared,
The shots from guns for hire.
A blip of light is what would show
A signature of heat.
And all those blips directed
At people in retreat.

“That isn’t what it shows at all.”
The lawyers said at trial.
“Reflections of the sunlight
Cast from a debris pile.”
But that is light and this is heat,
Heat as shot from guns.

 Guns that shot the moms and dads,
And killed the little ones.

The people in the kitchen,
They had no place to run.
With fire on the inside,
And outside men with guns.
Some tried to make it out the back,
But were shot or forced inside.
None of them escaped from there,
And twenty-five would die.

Worst of luck was to the few
Who made it to the trapdoor,
To find it crushed from top on down.
They died right on the floor.
The school bus buried on this spot
Would have been a shelter.
Instead the tanks came through at dawn,
And made things helter-skelter.

Nine there were survived the fire,
And came out where they could.
But seventy-six would die there,
And burn among the wood.
Among the dead were children,
Eighteen were under ten.
And thirty-five were women,
And twenty-three were men.

And some of them had died from gas,
And some of them from fire.
And some, they died from bullet wounds
That came from guns for hire.
And surely some had shot themselves,
When the flames came close.
And surely we can’t blame them
For making that hard choice.

There was blame to go around,
And always fault to find.
And lots of finger pointing,
We heard the axes grind.
The Feds would say that David
And his men lit the fire.
They spread lots of accelerants
To make a funeral pyre.

Survivors went to media,
And told a different tale.
The tanks knocked over lanterns,
Set fire to hay-bales.
The media recounted how,
In it’s history,
The FBI would set a fire
To end some kind of siege.

The bodies of the victims
Went into autopsy.
The Coroner we know now
A man named Peerwani.
And he himself was suspect,
Beholden to the men,
Who covered up his sloppy work
Time and time again.

The people who were gunshot
Were frozen one and all.
Someone unplugged the freezer,
And decomposed them all.
So they were quickly buried,
All in a paupers’ grave.
It was so convenient,
And reputations saved.

They later held a trial,
And dragged the victims through it.
The jury heard the evidence
And said they didn’t do it.
The judge dismissed the jury,
And sentenced seven men,
Up to forty years in prison,
The victims burned again.

So now you’ve told the story, Dad,
I question like before.
Who won the war of Waco, Dad?
Who won the Waco war?

The story isn’t over, son.
The end’s not mine to tattle.
The Waco war, we call it,
Was only just a battle.
A battle fought for hearts and minds,
And the truth to tell.
A message clear for ears that hear,
And eyes that see, as well.

It’s written in the Bible,
In all those books I’ve mentioned.
And for this generation,
As was God’s intention.
And now, my son, it’s written
Within our hearts and minds.
So look to God for Judgment,
His mercy you will find.




Part Two



So tell me how this all fits in
With God and prophecy.
It’s hard to understand, Dad
So please explain to me.

Well, let’s pick up a Bible
And we will take a look.
The first thing we will notice
It isn’t just a book.
It’s many books by many men,
And written long ago.
Inspired by God to show you
The thing you need to know.

And look how it’s divided.
How first we have the law
As written down by Moses
The Torah, it is called.
In Genesis is Adam
And Eve and how they fell.
The serpent who beguiled them
To good and evil know.

And once they had the knowledge
They had to live in shame.
And Paradise was lost to them,
With Lucifer to blame.
But God would show his mercy,
Eve’s seed the curse would lift.
His heel would crush the Serpent
And heal our moral rift.

A time was thus appointed,
Six thousand years or so,
Until the One anointed
Would come, and Satan go.
But in the in-between time
A lesson we would learn.
To choose the good, refuse the bad
Or perish and be burned.

I see what you are saying,
That we share in the sin
Of Adam and of his wife Eve,
Because we are their kin.

Some generations then would pass
Till Abraham we see.
By Sarah and her handmaiden
Two children were to be.
First Ishmael then Isaac,
Blessings they received
Twelve families for each of them
In future there would be.

And Ike and Ish they went their ways,
Their futures for to seek.
Ishmael against all men
And havoc he would wreak.
But Isaac was no better,
It saddens me to say.
His blessing went to Jacob
And Esau went away.

And Jacob he had Joseph
Among twelve mighty sons.
And Joseph went to Egypt
And there a kingdom won.
And Joe begat Manasseh
And brother Ephraim.
And here in lies the future,
So we’ll come back to them.

And down the line came Moses
To draw the people out.
An exodus of forty years
To bring it all about.
And Moses gave us Torah
To show us all our sin.
And brought the tribes to Israel
But he could not go in.

So tell me more of Moses
Of when he brought them out
And took them through the desert.
What was that about?

Moses brought the Hebrews out
To show you of God’s plan
That none should live in bondage,
Or servitude to man.
His service was to Yahweh,
And to one god alone.
Establishing a holy place
Where men could then atone.

His brother was the High priest,
Of God he was appointed.
And in the lamb he sacrificed
See Jesus the anointed.
And like the serpent held up high
To cure those who were bitten,
Our Lord and savior took the curse,
To save us who were stricken.

And Moses brought commandments
Down from Sinai’s mountain.
And Jesus later showed us
They are the Spirit’s fountain.
The laws alone would show us
How short we are of Glory.
Fulfilling law was Jesus,
True moral and true story.

That’s how the Bible tells it.
First shadow and then substance.
We go from type to Antitype,
And all in God’s abundance.
And if you can believe it,
It’s happening today.
The finish of atonement
Is well along its way.

I’m sorry, Dad, you lost me.
I think you should explain
A little further in the book
And I’ll catch up again.

It’s my fault, son. I’ve gone ahead
And it’s not fair to you,
Or people out there watching
Who haven’t got a clue
We’ll pick it up in Prophets
And there we’ll see the light.
Then quickly through the movements
That start with Ellen White.

We first go to Ezekiel
And find a scene of slaughter.
It happens to the Temple men,
Their wives and sons and daughters.
Men with slaughter weapons
Going through the city.
“Defile the house, spare ye not,
Nor show ye any pity.”

“But why? You ask about this group
Who suffer and are killed.
It’s for the sins of Israel,
Her people so self willed.
The land is now so full of blood,
The cities so perverse,
A sacrifice is called for,
Removal of the curse.

The cities say, “God sees us not,
And we are God-forsaken.
It’s time we look out for ourselves.”
But they are so mistaken.
Our God has seen and heard it all,
How we have made our bed.
And so he shows how recompense
Will come upon our heads.

If God could do this to his church
Is there no hope for us?
Where was his grace and mercy?
How could in God we trust?

The gods of men are not our God.
Their ways are not the same.
It’s man himself who set the stage,
Was God to take the blame?
It’s ignorance and pride in us
That brought it all about.
The blood again is on our hands,
In God we need not doubt.

Again Ezekiel tells us
About the pride and fall.
The story of the prince of Tyre
Who thought he had it all.
He was a man and not a God,
Though God had gifted him.
He grew in wealth and fortune
And pride had lifted him.

Because he set his heart to be
Just like the heart of God,
The terrible of nations
Would put him to the rod.
His wisdom wouldn’t save him,
His brightness it would fade.
And in the end, he must confess,
Of flesh he had been made.

And this reflects on someone else
Who was once in Eden.
On Lucifer, The Morning Star,
Of all the angels leading.
His beauty was astounding.
His brightness it would blind him.
He set his mind to be as God
But darkness will soon bind him.

This group that paid atonement,
What else can you tell me?
What do the other prophets say
About this group that will be?

Isaiah talks about a tribe,
The crown of pride of Ephraim.
They’re drunk with wine of different kind,
Of private interpretation.
Here they’re seen to stumble,
And in vision they will err.
Their tables full of vomit,
(Old doctrine, we infer).

For precept comes on precept,
A line upon a line.
A little here, a little there
Will make a bitter wine.
But new wine is for new skins,
And old skins they will burst.
New doctrines being introduced,
They disregard the first.

And disregarding warnings
They hasten to a man,
To stumble, fall, be taken,
According to the plan.
It never should have happened,
If they had followed law,
The cornerstone foundation,
To catch them in a fall.

The message is to Judah,
In God’s Jerusalem.
A puzzle made to ferret out,
It could be you, not them.
“Therefore be not mockers,
Lest you are in there too.
Judgment sits upon the world.
Yes, including you.”

But what about in Daniel,
Who was in Babylon?
He wrote about the end times,
About what is to come.

Daniel had a vision then,
About our very days.
Seventy weeks were foretold,
Four hundred ninety days.
And in that time a cleansing,
An end to sin, you see.
Restoring of the temple,
And human dignity.

And here we see two princes,
A giver and a taker.
A messiah to be cut off,
And rise to meet his maker.
The other prince will desolate,
The daily he will take.
For this abomination
He would meet his fate.

Daniel goes still further on,
And that’s where we are now.
The kings assemble for the war
Between the north and south.
And these kings will go to war,
With strife and with turmoil.
Two liars at one table,
All for the love of oil.

And while these king are restless
The saints will be at rest.
God’s kingdom is established
In tribulation’s test.
And if you make the grade, son,
The keys are in your hand.
The gates to you will open
In God’s promised land.

So the Prophets told of this?
A story for our time.
But did Jesus teach about it?
Or even Paul or John?

Jesus taught the kingdom coming,
And pointed to events to come.
He spoke of Daniel’s desolation,
To let the signs be known to some.
Then he spoke about the wedding
And the virgins who were waiting.
Are we the virgins with the oil,
 And the groom anticipating?

The key to this is preparation,
And listen for the midnight cry.
The marriage of the Lamb is pending,
And we should know the reason why.
The bride of Christ is in her chamber,
Behind the sacred curtain.
And she’s the living Holy Spirit,
Of this we can be certain.

Paul speaks of the coming Christ,
And events that usher in,
About the church that falls away,
And about the Man of Sin.
He says that day shall not come,
Lest this shall first occur.
A man will take the place of God,
And so the law invert.

With signs and lying wonders
He moves in on the sly.
And God sends strong delusion,
So they believe a lie.
They follow in a falsehood,
That this man is God.
He leads them to perdition
And to Judgment’s rod.

But what of Revelation?
The prophecies of John.
All books meet and end there,
‘Cause it’s the final one.

                                                         The book of Revelations
Is very hard to read.
It’s full of signs and symbols,
To hidden thoughts they lead.
It’s written by the Spirit
And only told to John,
Protected by the seven seals
That open one by one.

David claimed to be the Lamb
That opens up the book.
And in that way convinced them
That they could have a look.
And look they did and wondered
The meaning of it all.
The little bits and pieces,
Together how they fall.

But knowledge comes with a price,
And what a price they paid.
They bought a ticket for a ride,
An early Judgment Day.
But in the price they paid, dear,
A lesson for us now.
We wait in patience for the time
When God will show us how.

The day will come of Judgment,
The heavenly and earthly.
And David too will resurrect
To say no man is worthy.
To loose the seals was not his job,
But reserved for the author.
The Son who sits upon the throne
And the Holy Spirit daughter.

What you say is really deep,
But why is it all needed,
If Jesus died once for my sins
And is for judgment seated?

The sin of each of us is covered
By Jesus’ sacrifice.
But sin is now found in the Church,
And so we’re paying twice.
It’s corporate sin that keeps us
From God’s saving grace.
And when that sin is paid for
The Church regains her place.

Once the Lord ascended
He left mankind alone,
And doctrines false all came in
To take away the throne.
Two thousand years we’ve waited,
With lies among the truth.
A cleansing is what’s needed
To bring us back to youth.

A reformation started
Around year fifteen hundred,
With German Martin Luther
And the blood would run red.
“ Live by faith” is what he said,
“ Your works be proof of that”.
Don’t pay for an indulgence
To let the Church get fat.

His timing was judicious,
His message spoke of reason.
Then Wesley, Knox, and Campbell
All came in their due season.
And each would bring us closer
To righteous understanding,
Of how to live a righteous life
That our Lord is commanding.

But wasn’t there a movement, Dad
That taught about the Advent,
The working of a timeline,
And great disappointment?

A man named William Miller,
He studied it all out,
And counted days from Daniel,
Till advent came about.
If days are years, and years we count
From Dan nine twenty-four,
The cleansing of the sanctuary
Is eighteen forty-four.

For fourteen years, both near and far
He preached the coming day.
And fifty thousand joined him
Across the U S A.
                                                       But their great expectations
Were soon to come to naught.
October twenty second
Just wasn’t what it ought.

They prayed for understanding
Of just what had gone wrong.
And their prayers were answered,
It didn’t take to long.
“ It wasn’t here but Heaven,
The cleansing to be made.
Judgment sits upon the throne
And it’s foundation’s laid.”

And we still look to Miller,
And we still count the years.
We live anticipating
The ending of our tears.
And our great disappointment
Has brought us maturity,
And patience came to replace haste,
And Christ is our security.

You mention Ellen White before
But how does she fit in?
Did she teach the meaning of
Atonement of our sin?

When Ellen White was very young
God spoke to her in dreams.
He told her of the Sabbath
And everything it means.
The seventh day and not the first
Is set aside to pray.
It is the fourth commandment,
And holy is that day.

And Ellen brought this special truth
Into the Miller movement.
She took them into present truth
Much to their improvement.
And over time, she showed them how
The love of God is known,
In what we eat, and how we live,
The grace of God is shown.

 And Ellen in her visions
Was told of the Atonement,
Of Jesus special sacrifice,
And of those final moments.
But atonement wasn’t finished,
Though our sin was covered.
Jesus as the high priest
Must pass it to another.

Mrs. White would recognize
That Lucifer must pay.
And on Earth his movement
Would come from S.D.A.
Referring to Ezekiel,
And to his chapter nine,
She said that we would witness
This event in our time.

But wasn’t that enough for them,
To make them stop and think?
The price that some would have to pay
For standing on the brink?

You’d think that that would be enough,
But they pushed her aside.
The Spirit never could break through
The leaders’ silly pride.
And Mrs. White would pass away,
The SDA lukewarm.
Until a man named Houteff
Would bring about reform.

Victor Houteff, foreign born,
Was teaching Sabbath School,
Considering the kingdom
Of which our Lord would rule.
This kingdom is to be on Earth
If prophesy is true.
And people must make ready,
And must know what to do.

So Victor started seeking
To find the truth in type.
Those men will fit the character,
When prophesy is ripe.
And those events predicted
Would soon come into play.
A Joshua, A David,
Would soon be on the way.

But tell the truth and you will find
That some don’t want to hear.
“Don’t teach the Kingdom message”
Is what they said quite clear.
“If you want to teach this truth
Then you will have to go.”
So Houteff and his small group
Chose the town of Waco.

What was this group about, Dad,
That they could cause a stir?
And how did people treat them
In places that they were?

 Shepard’s Rod they called themselves,
And then Davidians.
Provoking truth to SDA,
 To make them understand.
”It’s your book, too, the Bible,
I hope that you have read it.
And prophecy’s a cycle,
We better not forget it.”

He saw the past as present,
The present in the past.
The types are shadows leading
To anti-types at last.
And Hitler, for example,
In Nahum we will find.
He comes to dash in pieces,
Assyria to bind.

Though Hitler didn’t do the job
The type comes round again.
Today we see Bin Laden
As fitting in this trend.
The Church, it plays a part as well,
In types, complex and simple.
Cyrus, David, Joshua and
Rebuilding of the Temple.

When Houteff died in ‘55
His followers would say
“He’ll resurrect in ‘59,
The Joshua of today.”
But that just didn’t happen.
The plan just fell apart.
Ben Roden stepped onto the scene,
To give it a fresh start.

What happened then, when Victor died
And didn’t resurrect?
Did they continue teaching
Or did it end the sect?

The group was in confusion,
And some thought all was lost.
And Mrs. Houteff sold the land
And headed for the coast.
But Ben and Lois Roden
Would purchase of the tract,
A portion of the property,
The church would have it back.

“My name is Branch”, he told the world
“And Branches we’ll be called.
We’ll learn the ways of righteousness,
And teach them to the world.”
And Ben would teach of kingdom,
Of feast and festival.
Of each beneath his fig tree,
And Christ within us all.

Said Ben “Next year Jerusalem!”
And brought them to the land
Of milk and honey, Immanuel,
And love for fellow man.
But life is full of struggle,
And effort from the start.
Despite the best of efforts
Things would fall apart.

A farm they bought in Israel,
And tools to work the land.
But people drifted on their own
And didn’t keep the stand.
So back they came to Waco,
The women and the men.
“The time’s not right, so we’ll regroup,
And we’ll be back again.”

But what of Mrs. Roden,
The part she had to play?
I heard she had a message
And something more to say.

In time as Ben got older
And near the end of life,
The leadership of council,
He gave it to his wife.
And Lois had a message,
Of God, the Feminine.
The loving wife of Yahweh,
As Eve was to Adam.

A willing co-creator.
The wisdom to His will.
The Jews called her Shekinah,
The Holiness indwelled.
It was she who filled the Temple
With light from on the Ark,
And sat between the Cherubim,
On Moses sacred Ark.

Ben had died and his son George,
Was eager for his role.
But leadership was given
To Lois, bless her soul.
George was prone to anger,
And looking for a fight.
The group took him to land-court,
The judge upheld their right.

With George removed things settled down,
At least for a short while.
The Branches hated conflict,
It was not their style.
 But peace is never easy,
And comfort has it’s price.
Perhaps they all had gone asleep
Against God’s best advise.

This part I remember,
When David came to stay.
And George got mad about it,
And how things got that way.

First things first, I’ll tell you
About young Vernon Howell,
Before he came to Waco,
Before what you know now.
Vernon was from Tyler.
His mom was just fourteen,
Was raised by his grandmother,
And times were very lean.

Then when Mom got married
She took him to her house.
From stories he would later tell
He was beaten by her spouse.
But Vernon was resilient,
And was a quiet kid.
Enjoyed the Bible stories,
And what the heroes did.

He went to school like others,
But there was something that he needed.
Today it’s called dyslexia,
A problem with his reading.
To compensate he studied more,
But still he fell behind.
He said they called him “retard”,
And that messed with his mind.

But Vernon wasn’t stupid,
He had some special skills.
He spoke well and played guitar,
A triumph of his will.
But most of all he knew the book.
The Bible was his friend.
And that was the beginning,
Of course you know the end.

There was a time in Tyler,
When Vernon fell in love.
It was the pastor’s daughter
That he was thinking of.
And she would have his child,
A pretty little girl.
But Vernon was disfellowshiped
And sent out in the world.

He sought to do the right thing.
He wanted then to marry her.
Her father wouldn’t hear of it
And made himself a barrier.
And Vernon sought a prophet,
To turn his life around,
Was told of Branch Davidians,
In Waco they were found.

So tell me, Dad, how David came
To Waco and the Branch.
And tell me how he came to be
A prophet at the ranch.

In 1980 Vernon came
And stayed about a week.
And on and off about a year,
Until he stayed for keeps.
The people who remember him
From the early days,
Recall a serious student
Quiet in his ways.

Vernon liked to work on cars,
On motors he would work.
Whatever he put his mind to
No business would he shirk.
And Bible talk was always there,
He was a constant witness.
Not to be self-righteous
Of judgment and forgiveness.

He had spurned his sinful ways,
But his regrets would follow him.
And if he weren’t careful,
Depression sought to swallow him.
Prayer was his companion,
His Bible at his side.
He always sought redemption,
Old guilt he didn’t hide.

But as he gained in stature
Within the church he found,
He must be true to nature
If he were duty bound.
And in that recognition,
He found the Serpent’s root,
The heart of sin original
In Eve and Adam’s fruit.

He let his nature blossom
To lead him where it would.
And he kept no secrets
Of evil or of good.
Rumor said that he seduced
The older Mrs. Roden.
His mentor she would thus become,
And on him she was doting.

But George, her son, he called it rape
And pulled his mom away,
And cast his threats at Vernon
And had lots more to say.
In ’84 the Branches met
And voted Vernon out.
He took a group to Palestine,
Said “we’ll be back, don’t doubt”.

And George, he took the property,
And let it go to ruin.
He tried to work it as a farm.
Didn’t know what he was doing.
He couldn’t keep his tenants,
And wouldn’t pay the tax.
And didn’t have a message,
And these are just the facts.

In ‘Eighty-seven Vernon
Received a strange direction.
A challenge sent by George himself,
About a resurrection.
“I’ve dug up Mrs. Anna Hughes.
If you can bring her back
You’ll move onto the property
If not I keep the tract”.

He wasn’t having none of this,
Vern called the Waco sheriff.
And Harwell said “I won’t come out,
At least without a witness”.
So Vernon got a camera,
And brought along some men.
And snuck onto the property,
To take a picture then.

But George caught wise, and got his gun.
An Uzi, yes it was.
And had a little shootout,
And that brought down the fuzz.
And Sheriff Harwell took them all,
And threw them all in jail.
It took a little while
But Vernon made his bail.

And Waco was a’buzzin
When this thing got to court.
The newspapers would have a day
With something to report.
They even brought a coffin in,
Don’t know about the body.
And said that George abused a corpse,
And treated it quite shabby.

With Vernon’s men acquitted
You’d think that that’d be all.
But George had cursed the judges
With plagues of AIDS and all.
So George, convicted of contempt
Was taken to the prison.
And Vernon and the Branches
Came back while George was missing.

That was sure exciting, Dad.
I hope there’s something more.
I know there is because you told me
                                                               All of this before.

Well they came back, just like I said,
And found the place a shambles.
The cottages had fallen down,
The fields were full of brambles.
The well, it wasn’t working,
The tractor, it was broken.
They organized a clean-up,
And no complaints were spoken.

And all the while Vernon preached
From A.M. until P.M..
And came to see himself as one
With Jesus Christ the Lamb.
He sought to fill the prophecies
Of those who were anointed.
And showed how these, the latter days,
Were times that were appointed.

But there were shadows over
The prophecies he taught.
The way he understood it
The Glory must be bought.
“If we’re the ones to do this thing,
A price we have to pay.
We are to die and resurrect
Somewhere along the way.”

This was quite a shock to some,
And they would run away,
And tell a tale of guns and girls
And how they got away.
But more there were who stayed
And listened to this man,
Who brought the Kingdom closer
According to his plan.

Vernon Howell had found himself
In the book, Isaiah.
A Shepard called by YAHWEH
To be a new Messiah
To break the gates of Babylon
And free the captive nation.
And bring them to Jerusalem
To God’s own Holy station.

And Zechariah’s young man
Who measures on the mountain.
And later in the same book
He opens up the fountain.
He knew they’d smite the Shepard
And scatter all the flock.
But then a restoration,
They gather by the Rock.

This wasn’t only his idea,
A product of his mind.
But Branches now for years and years
Had thoughts of just this kind.
Victor Houteff was the first
 To think himself the David.
A Joshua for today he said,
To make his nation sacred..

Ben Roden was the next in line
To say he was anointed.
To teach the feasts and festivals,
For this he was appointed.
And then the Mrs., Lois,
Would teach the Female Spirit,
But in the process found that she
Was more tempted to be it.

                                                Vernon Howell would change his name
To be David Koresh.
David, king of Israel,
Of YAHWEH, he was blessed.
Koresh, Hebrew for Cyrus,
Who was the Persian king.
He brought the Jews from Babylon,
And Temple was restoring.

But who would play the villain,
The terrible of nations,
The present day Assyria,
So mighty, so impatient.
And how is one to set the trap,
And lure the beast right in?
And more important set the stage
To lose, and yet to win.

“Just be yourself”, his Lord had said,
“And I will see you through”.
And so Koresh became himself.
Just what else could he do?
“Brace yourselves” he told his crew,
“And I will cry out loud,
A message to the nations,
So haughty and so proud”.

The guns, the girls, the rock and roll,
The motorcycle, too.
And if you didn’t know the end,
You’d wish that it were you.
And that was God’s intention,
To show us our own face.
And rub our faces in the mud,
To show us our disgrace.

And as for the Assyrians,
We know who they are now.
The bloody hands they cannot wash,
As if they would know how!
The branches of God’s vineyard
Are marred for all to see.
And Judgment sits in Heaven,
Waiting patiently.

And so we come full circle,
Shots coming through the door.
Panic at the compound,
The start of Waco’s war.
Things would never be the same
For me after that day.
And till the end, God knows when,
The memories will stay.

But what’s the situation, Dad,
The situation now?
What’s happened to the Branches?
How are they all, now?

You know this happened long ago,
According to your years.
To me it’s just like yesterday,
Still ringing in my ears.
More than twenty children
Came out before the fire.
Witnesses to massacre
And the funeral pyre.

Now they’ve grown to understand,
As much as anyone,
How the Branches sacrificed
Their all for everyone.
It doesn’t dull the pain of it,
The loss of folks and friends.
The memories of better times
Should heal them in the end.

Some elders of the Branch have died
But some are hanging on.
And each is left with memories
To latch their life upon.
“David was the Son of God”,
Says Catherine now ninety,
“Sent to bring the Judgment
Upon an Age now ending”.

Mary Belle, near eighty now,
Was Perry Jones’ wife.
And Rachael Jones’ mother
Who would be David’s wife.
Mary doesn’t harbor hate,
Despite all of the pain.
She only hopes to live to see
 The children once again.

Sheila Martin, Wayne’s wife,
Lost him to the flames,
With four of Sheila’s children.
Just memories remain.
But Sheila still has two in teens
And she will raise them right,
To justify His handiwork,
                                                                    And be precious in His sight.

                                                    What about the ones who went
To prison and all that?
Are they still strong in faith and all?
After going through all that?

I guess you know those seven guys
Were gone for many years.
They went through many changes
In all those many years.
Prison is designed to break
The spirit in a man.
They seek to take your very soul
And crush it, if they can.

So if a man should change his path,
I hope you understand,
It doesn’t mean rejection
Of who they were back then.
They know the truth, for what it’s worth
Of their experience,
And draw their own conclusions
Of what it means to them.

Now, these are private persons
And well within their rights
To keep these matters personal
Or bring them into light.
We should only hope that
Given time and space,
Their psychic wounds would start to heal
As things fall into place.

I know that two are going strong
And still profess the Branch.
The others they will get along
If given half a chance.
The God they chose to worship
And sought to comprehend,
Is there above and here below
And helping them to mend.

What about that Tim McVeigh,
The O.K. City bomber?
Was he at all connected
To the Waco drama?

An angry young man was seen
Hawking bumper signs,
At the roadside circus
On the highway past the Y.
He was even photographed.
They interviewed him too.
Protesting the government,
(My Uncle Sam wants who)?

Timmy served the Army
In the first Gulf War.
He even won a medal
For bravery and valor.
He came home a casualty,
Wounded in the spirit.
If he cared to tell it,
The Army wouldn’t hear it.

The Army then released him,
A veteran and hero.
Tim would go a little sour.
He knew he was no hero.
He recognized that others
Were in the same position.
He visited Militias,
Searching for a mission.

He read through many pamphlets
To further his inquiries.
And outlined like a Bible
The popular Turner diaries.
I remind you I don’t know
The truth of what I say.
I only know the rumors
And what the papers say.

They say Tim got the notion
The day he read the book.
And put it into motion
With Waco as the hook.
There are so many questions
That never got an answer.
But motive is an easy one.
Revenge, the ready answer.

I won’t commit to paper
What I really think.
What the hell… they did it themselves!
That’s what I really think!
Did I say that? I really mean,
We really do not know.
Just my deep suspicions
We saw just half the show.

I know I’m sounding paranoid.
But what else can I say?
In fifty years we’ll know the facts,
But that is not today.
The mighty Murrah Building
In Oklahoma City,
Was chosen as a target,
By men who showed no pity.

Early in the morning,
A truck was parked close by.
And suddenly exploded,
And blew itself sky high.
And down came half the building,
To that crushing fate.
Recovering the bodies,
They count one sixty-eight.

A couple dozen children
Were killed attending day-care.
Just collateral damage.
The bombers what did they care?
They had hit their target,
Another trick to spring.
That pending bill in Congress,
Just waiting in the wings.

Curious to mention, Pops,
                                                            But I just need to say.
Who called up all the agents
And had them stay away?

Where did you hear that, son?
Not from me I hope.
That kind of talk is treason,
A reason for a rope.
Don’t bandy bout conspiracy.
Not in the public eye.
That’s for you to research.
The truth is yours to find.

The thing that binds two tragedies,
They came two years apart.
April nineteenth, sealed by fire.
A scar upon our hearts.
Though one would wish the wound to heal,
It festers now and then.
Opened fresh by new events,
We suffer once again.

On that day in history
It’s notable to find
Turning points dramatic
A few come quick to mind.
That is something they can’t hide
In our history books.
Dates are no coincidence.
Take another look.

That day’s an anniversary
Of Paul Revere’s night ride.
That day is called Patriot’s Day,
Militia Day besides.
At Lexington and Concord
Before our Revolution,
We defined our native rights
To find our own solutions.

A solemn day in Warsaw
In Nineteen Forty-Three
They burned the Warsaw ghetto,
A holocaust was seen.
The flames would climb into the night,
The smoke to God would reach.
A gathering of martyrs,
A lesson there to teach.

Never again is what we say
And that’s just what we mean.
But fifty years to the day
We repeat the scene.
So, did we learn our lesson
Or make a mockery,
To burn Mt.Carmel to the ground
In Nineteen Ninety-Three?

What about yourself, dad?
What part did you play?
Were you there? If so where?
And why? And did you stay?

You know all this you little scamp
I shouldn’t have to tell you.
What I did was nothing much
At least not in the long view.
I came to look, then hung around
And got to know a little.
I met some fire survivors.
I wish that I had done more.

  I mowed some lawns and took a job,
In town I did some framing.
Of course I studied Bible
With survivors I’ve been naming.
These people have been demonized
In all that they’ve been through.
I wouldn’t think to judge them
For any thing they’d do.

I saw the civil trial
A travesty of law.
The judge showed bias in the way
He ran the court and all.
He twisted rules of evidence,
We never saw the FLIR.
He determined what was heard  
And what we didn’t hear.

It should have been expected.
He was the Judge before.
At the criminal trial
In San Antonio.
They say he rigged the jury pool
To stifle all dissent,
And overruled the jury
Who called them innocent.

I also helped when men came in
To build upon the ashes.
I wasn’t good for very much,
So I won’t do no bragging.
They worked for twenty Sundays
Never did they despair.
They never took a dollar.
All their work was volunteer.

I lived there on the hill awhile,
About five years or so
I met a lot of people,
I’ve seen them come and go.
Most were sympathetic.
They seemed to know the score.
They had an ear and will to hear
The tale of Waco’s War.

I’ve moved on, but still remember,
Moments spent in awe of God.
Sitting in the field at night,
Beneath the moon, and all the stars.
Voices, much like little childrens.
Very much an unknown tongue,
Rehearsing for the Song of Moses,
Virgins all on Mount Zion.

Before my memories fail me
I give them all to you.
A burden or a blessing,
Depends on what you do.
The pieces on the board are set,
And waiting on the players.
And witnesses to the game
Should keep us in their prayers.