Send in the choppers
Bring down the axe
Here comes agent orange
With his mortar attacks
Void of any conscience
Wiped out from the start
Never find compa**ion
In his purple heart
Oh oh
This move is obscene
I don´t feel part of
This k**ing culture
Oh oh
The gla**y eyes that i´ve seen
I won´t be entertained
By this ultramarine
Ultramarine
Liberation comes
In jeans and c**a-cola
Liberty this bullet´s
Got your name on it
You make the films
And you´re making history
Napalm-burger-bars
Popcorn victory
Oh oh
This move is obscene
I don´t feel part of
This k**ing culture
Oh oh
Here´s punishment for your dreams
I won´t be entertained
By this ultramarine
Ultramarine
Oh oh
I don´t feel part of
This k**ing culture
Oh oh
I´m afraid i´m repulsed
By this ultramarine
Ultramarine
Ultramarine
The year is 1963
I´m 6 years old
A monk in some far off land
Dowses himself in petrol
And strikes a match
I´m watching television
A black silhouette
Engulfed in white flame
Still moving after what seems
A very long time
...burning buddha...
The room is filled with blue light
We change channels
And watch a james cagney movie
Marching soldiers singing
"over there over there........"