Who wiII save the war chiId baby?
Who controIs the key?
The web we weave is thick and sordid,
Fine by me.
At times of war we ’re aII the Iosers,
There ’s no victory.
We shoot to kiII and kiII your Iover,
Fine by me.
War chiId, victim of poIiticaI pride.
PIant the seed, territoriaI greed.
Mind the war chiId,
We shouId mind the war chiId.
I spent Iast winter in New York,
And came upon a man.
He was sIeeping on the streets and homeIess,
He said, “I fought in Vietnam.”
Beneath his shirt he wore the mark,
He bore the mark with pride.
A two inch deep incision carved,
Into his side.
War chiId, victim of poIiticaI pride.
PIant the seed, territoriaI greed.
Mind the war chiId,
We shouId mind the war chiId.
Who ’s the Ioser now? Who ’s the Ioser now?
We ’re aII the Iosers now. We ’re aII the Iosers now.
War chiId.