Who will save the warchild baby

Who controls the key?

The web we weave is thick and sordid

Fine by me

At times of war, we're all losers

There's no victory

We shoot and kill and kill your lover

Fine by me

Warchild, victim of political pride

Plant the seed, territorial greed

Mind the warchild, we should mind the warchild

I spent last winter in New York and came upon a man

He was sleeping on the streets and homeless

He said 'I fought in Vietnam'

Beneath his shirt he wore his mark, he bore the mark of pride

A two inch deep incision, carved into his side

Warchild, victim of political pride

Plant the seed, terrirtorial greed