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I went to fight a useless war
across a black, red sea.
A man without an education
taught me how to kill,
he told me what to be.

Kill and fight, hate and love,
it's all the same to me.
Bomb and blast, smash and crash,
it’s all the same to me,
all the blame’s on me.

Don't make my mother proud, Sir.
Don't make her proud of me.
Don't give her any medals, Sir.
I'm just a memory,
an eighteen-year-old memory.

I might have made a boy, Sir.
His soul, it waits for me.
I might have made a girl, Sir,
But, now she’ll never be,
now they'll never be.

Don't want no stars and stripes, Sir,
to lie on top of me.
I'd rather have the dirt, Sir,
the earth and sun on me,
the earth and sun on me.