| Little soldier, plastic pistol
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| Aiming for the head
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| Now you see me now you don’t
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| You missed me, you’re dead
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| Laughing, hiding in the bushes
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| Scatter for your life
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| Little soldier tripped and fell
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| Get him with your knife
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| Electric eye is loaded
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| It shows them it’s okay to kill
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| They eventually will
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| Mother calls you in for lunch
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| Put the war on hold
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| Too rough to play with other kids
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| How many times you’ve been told
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| Laugh at pain it’s silly
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| He’d make the soldiers bleed
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| Break the flesh, twist the bone
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| Bring them to their knees
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| You don’t throw stick and stone
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| You leave the little girls alone, she said
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| First sight of blood at ten
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| Fell off the swing and cracked his head
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| A still and quiet conscience
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| Regardless of their doom
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| The victims play, they’re on their way
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| Soldier Boy
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| No sense they have, of ills to come
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| Nor care beyond ills of today
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| They’ve lost their way, Soldier Boy
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| Playgrounds into battle fields
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| Diapers into green and stripes
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| Mold plastic into steel, the war is real
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| The solders fight tonight
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| Little soldier falls once more
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| Sees red glow like the sun
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| Mother calls him back to
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| Arlington, in Washington |