The Butcher of Srebrenica

I attended a 21st memorial service three weeks ago for the victims of the massacres and spoke to survivors – their harrowing tales were unbelievably heart-wrenching. I reposted my angry song (accurate according to the survivors) about the nationalism that led to this and the inaction by the UN.


Such a blood-stained monstrous creature
He’s the Butcher of Srebrenica
He tips his hat at the hookless meat
War widows walk on bleeding feet

He swears to God and takes their lives
Mere shadows on his cleansing knives
Hatred drips from his country’s flag
He wipes the counter with this bloodied rag
Rips son from sister, men from wives
And justifies their shortened lives…

Then I hear the sirens call
The bullets fly and the bombs they fall
I hear them call for national pride
What they mean is GENOCIDE….

Such a blood-soaked monstrous creature
He’s the Butcher of Srebrenica
Spritius Sanctus; the Devil toasts
He tips his hat at eight thousand ghosts

His comrades draw on their crackling skin
As their hatred boils the blood within
Tito’s shadow cries in vain
As slaughter stalks the land again
The deepest ditch and the mourning field
Day by day, their secrets yield…

“Then I hear the sirens call
Bullets fly and the bombs they fall
Then I hear the ghosts inside
Crying out against GENOCIDE….”

Such a blood-soaked monstrous creature
He’s the Butcher of Srebrenica…
Dutch auctions held in brutal times
As their soldiers danced in their conga lines
Sarajevo was a mortal hell
With sniper, tank and mortar shell
The judges rise as the decades pass
And the Butcher stands in court at last
He smiles his smile and he bows his head
To tip his hat at ten thousand dead…

He’s the Butcher of Srebrenica
Such a blood-soaked monstrous creature…

(c) Paul D E Mitchell – all lyrics, instruments and vocals by Paul D E Mitchell – PRS protected

© mitch 2023
Views: 3276
critique and comments welcome.
Notify of
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments
 <span title="New Commenter" style="font-size : small; color: blue;">*</span><p>

A powerful piece, Mitch, about a shocking moment in Europe’s recent history. Where were the Yanks and the Brits then, I wonder… I suppose it didn’t help that our Prime Minister at the time was John Major.


I sometimes think people are doomed to repeat these kinds of atrocities for all time. So many people disagree with war and yet it persists as a disease around the world. The selfish few at the top care not for the likes of ordinary folk. That is the real problem.


This is powerful. “I hear them call for national pride, What they mean is GENOCIDE….”


My feelings about the UN would have me arrested.
Now they are raping kids in Africa.
I hear you loud and clear. A powerful poem that deserves to be heard.
Alison x

Flag Content