I knew a paper soldier boy cut finely out of would He started out with plastic guns, intentions well and good And as the years passed by it seems he played the part so well He wrapped himself in stars and stripes all else could go to hell And he said "I know whats right and it aint you"
I meet a man while scrubbin pots with a face i'd seen before For every story i could tell he had a hundred more Old Irish Joe had nothing left. Not home, nore job, nore wife Three people at the welfare wake to finally end his life "Mr please can you spare a dime?"
My god why'd it go so wrong? Why cant you see it through? Mockry of a country thats more red and white than blue My god why mothers crying, she aint the only one Only question left to ask is aint we all your sons?