son they say

old restored.

 

son they say they want you to fight their war
so you'll kill and kill and kill until their guns are sore
and them a-rabs aint nothing but yer enemy
and if you don't start killin them, then hell they’re gonna kill you and me

son they say they want me in a hole
buried six feet deep so i can’t protest anymore
and to them i say, what’s war solved anyway
and if it's peace they want to kill, then peace is what i’ll die for

son they say, your heart's just a ball of clay
and your head's full of hand grenades
and your soul is made of shells
and your hands are aks
and your eyes are sniper rifles
and your ears are radar
and your feet are rocket launchers
and i’ll be damned if god didn’t make you to fight our war
son, they say, this is why you were born

son i say you're a fool to believe them
and thier guns aint gonna solve no problems anyway
and if you love your jesus and your mary and your moses
then i know you'll throw your guns away

(and come back home)