History has lied to me ever since I learnt to read,
And its glorious themes of kings and queens,
Were no more than tales of murderers and thieves,
Though the stories I was told of the bold knights of old,
Did inspire me to make myself a man,
But there's no one left to fight against when everyone's your friend,
Oh, I'd rather have a dozen enemies than a friend who turns his back.
They sail rich, they sail free, they tell you everything's fine,
But where has all the excitement gone when you're working nine 'til five,
And what's the point of comradeship or touching acts of love,
When the devils never at the door or watching from above,
And how's a man to know his worth when he never tests his strength?
A scientist measures everything, but how to measure a man?
When his world is safe and comfortable and his fights are all well planned?
And how to measure loyalty when its challenge never comes?
And all the wars are fought over there and we've got the biggest guns,
Oh, an enemy that's in the hand is worth twenty over there.