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We're dropping bombs down on the kids They can't eat bombs And we know this But we're doing what we're told We're flying around in strategic bombers With an afterburner straight to hell Where napalms burning love that smell My little girl she sits at home With my last letter all alone She stops to read closes her eyes and then she cries My daddy told me he was proud My mummy's praying but not too loud I wonder if the Lord will get the massage clear Oh mummy be sure I'll come back In a wooden box all painted black A bullet between the eyes is all what's left for you Seven times I've asked my head But all I've got is no mans land...no mans land... And if those generals say: don't worry Same old assholes same old story And it's not true... From Letras Mania