Who will save the warchild baby
Who controls the key?
The web we weave is thick and sorbid
Fine by me
At times of war we're all losers
There's no victory
We shoot and kill and kill your lover
Fine by me

Warchild, victim of political pride
Plant the seed, territorial greed
Mind the warchild, we should mind the warchild

I spent last winter in New York and came upon a man
He was sleeping on the streets and homeless
He said "I fought in Vietnam"
Beneath his shirt he wore his mark, he bore the mark
of pride
A two inch deep incision, carved into his side