| Uncle Sam taught him to shoot
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| Maybe a little too well
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| Finger on the trigger, load it, pull it He hit the stage so full of rage
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| And let the whole world know it Six feet away, they heard him say
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| «Oh God, don’t let him pull it»
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| Please God, don’t let him pull it How could you put us through it?
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| His brother watched you do it How could you take his life away?
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| (what made you thing you had the right?)
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| How could you be so full of hate?
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| (to take away somebody’s life)
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| And when I heard you let him die
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| And made the world all wonder why
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| I sat at home and on my own,
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| I cried alone
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| And scratched your name
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| On the side of a bullet
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| And in the wake of his mistake
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| So many lives are broken
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| Gone forever from a loaded bullet
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| And no excuse that you could use
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| Could pull somebody through it And to this day so many say
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| «God why’d you let him do it?»
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| How could you let him do it?
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| How could you put us through it?
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| His brother watched him do it How could you take his life away?
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| (What made you think you had the right?)
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| How could you be so full of hate?
|
| (to take away somebody’s life)
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| And when I heard you let him die
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| And made the world
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| All wonder why
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| I sat at home and cried alone
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| And on my own
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| I scratched your name
|
| On the side of a bullet
|
| How could you take his life away?
|
| (What made you think you had the right?)
|
| How could you be so full of hate?
|
| (to take away somebody’s life)
|
| And when I heard you let him die
|
| And made the world
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| All wonder why
|
| I sat at home and cried alone
|
| And on my own
|
| I scratched your name
|
| On the side of a bullet
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| On the side of a bullet
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| On the side of a bullet
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| On the side of a bullet |