I don
I don
I don
So someone else can take their throne
I would put them all in a room
Give em all the guns and clips they need
I would put a seed in their minds
That foreigners are based on greed
Soldier machismo and his morals
Who am I to know what they
And what is there to say that if they all lay down
My home would be gone
I wanna put glue down your gun
Imagine pointing that thing at your son
When he dies you
And there
Broken shells and twisted metal
Flaming egos, wilting petals
Look outside your eyes are sore
Now tell me who won the war