| War is coming, gunning for your son
|
| War is coming, gunning for your soul
|
| Stepped into the TV room
|
| Through a shadow hot and green
|
| To my surprise I saw two dead eyes
|
| Staring right back through the screen
|
| War is coming, gunning for your son
|
| War is coming, gunning for your soul
|
| Read Sun Tzu and got two tattoos
|
| To represent my choice in fate
|
| Even now every time I salute
|
| My right hand reads, simply, hate
|
| War is coming, gunning for your son
|
| War is coming, gunning for your soul
|
| I was just a farmer once
|
| With my wants tied to my needs
|
| Living off of the fat of the land
|
| And doing whatever I pleased
|
| Got my ticket mailed into town
|
| Shipped down to New Orleans
|
| My brother called me on the telephone
|
| Said man kill you some Viet commies
|
| War is coming, gunning for your son
|
| War is coming, gunning for your soul
|
| War is coming, gunning for your son
|
| War is coming, gunning for your soul |