| Back home Indiana, we just learn to get along
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| Civilized and socialized they teach you right from wrong
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| How to hold your liquor and how to hold your tongue
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| How to hold a woman or a baby or a gun
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| But nothing will prepare you for the far Afghanistan
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| You can listen to their stories and pick up what you can
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| You listen to their stories maybe read a book or two
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| Until they send you out there, man you haven’t got a clue
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| Oh the Hindu Kush, the Band-e Amir, the Hazara
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| They tell you a tradition in the hills of Kandahar
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| They say young boys are taken to the wilderness out there
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| Taken to the mountain alone and in the night
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| If he makes it home alive they teach him how to fight
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| They fought against the Russians, they fought against the Brits
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| They fought old Alexander, talking ‘bout him ever since
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| And after 9/11 here comes your Uncle Sam
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| Another painful lesson in the far Afghanistan
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| I was ready to be terrified and ready to be mad
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| I was ready to be homesick, the worst I’ve ever had
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| I expected to be hated and insulted to my face
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| But nothing could prepare me for the beauty of the place
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| No matter what they tell you all soldiers talk to God
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| It’s a private conversation written in your blood
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| The enemy’s no different, badass holy wind
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| That crazy bastard talks to God and his God talks back to him |