(Ann Wilson)


I come down from Ft. Lewis

First time PFC

And kicking in these doorways

Ain't natural to me


But now I got my orders

That evil lives inside

Hate the sin and kill the sinner

And do it all with pride


Here I lie a'bleedin'

In a bombed out SUV

No more cell reception

No more light to see


Screaming hopeless questions

Dreaming 'bout my home

Till the chopper comes from heaven

To gather up my bones


I'm standing on a ledge

Out here on the edge

The moon is hanging high

It fills my dying eyes


Little problems, little lies


And all the young dudes fighting

So far away from home

Some are unsung heroes

Some are made of stone

Some of them are broken

The broken places strong

Some of them are crazy

Their innocence is gone


Standing on a ledge

Out here on the edge

The moon is hanging high

And it fills my dying eyes


Little problems, little lies