Portraits of Happy Times

he always feels so bad seeing red flakes on the ground
it's been almost three years now since he came in this wild town

but his feet are still on the ground and his eyes still pouring tears
and each time the sun goes down his head is full of fears

american soldier you're a puppet of the big clown
that uses you to win his goddamn oil war

and you kill for some lies and when you die he says he's very sorry
don't you think it's worth the try your life in the hands of Stupidity

you can't even run away you're the prisonner of war
you know i'd like to break your cell but our fight isn't fair

he uses his god as an excuse to justify his thirst of power
war against war never worked well so please hold your flower