Welcome home in a bodybag from the front lines of defeat

Discharged "to a normal life" in a room

That's two feet wide and six feet deep

And the flag on your coffin, it might as well be the nails

When all else fails, you are the wind

That sets their sails to a war

Played out before you were born

Business as usual

It's business as usual

Your business as usual is killing us all

So bring out your dead, chalk up the score and we'll go through the motions once more

Buried on a Sunday in a military grave with a six gun salute from the master to the slave

For the life that you gave, the promises that they broke, and the bribes that you paid

Back in the land of the dead you're buried where you fall

No glorious deeds etched into a wall

The monument is the blood in the sand, blood in the oil

Blood on your hands

When hell comes home, there's hell to pay

This is the price of oil