Before you go to war I need to sing you a song

A song for all the poor and all the worn out in Cong

A poem about the water, getting harder to see

You’ll come home all drenched and sucked out of your dreams

As you walk through the jungle with your M1 unsafe

You glance upon a flight but it drop bombs on your face

You stare into the stream of the waves at the sea

I hope that you’ll come home with fragments of dreams

As gunshots in the jungle separate you from life

You murder all you see cause you can’t even cry

Maybe you should camе back, you runoff to the skies

End up back at home with a shеll as your house