| Sacrifices must be made to the gods of war again
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| It’s the grunt that pay the price and the profiteers who win.
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| Who brought this world of sorrow?
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| Who stole your tomorrow?
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| Far from home brought by lies, fighting on you don’t know why.
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| Death rains drones from on high, while rats get fat good soldiers die.
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| They’ll greet you there with open arms, you know they’ll welcome you with
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| flowers.
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| Lies they tell to to ease their mind, all while serving darker powers.
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| Who brought this world of sorrow?
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| Who stole your tomorrow?
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| Far from home brought by lies, fighting on you don’t know why.
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| Death rains down from on high, while rats get fat good soldiers die.
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| The friend becomes the enemy, while a march to war begins again.
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| Politicians eye the polls, while the priests absolve their sins.
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| Who brought this world of sorrow?
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| Who stole your tomorrow? |