In Afghanistan he had a gun,
But that couldn't protect him from the worst tragedy he had ever seen.
The only one I dare to believe.
If you want money, or power, or legacy, than stand in the segregation line.
Do you want a medal, or a chest to put it on? Is your cause even righteous?
We are at war, don't forget it. He cleans his chamber, polished his mess kit.
Stop pointing the finger, start provoking question.
Makes no sense to think about the prize and not about the consequence.
The tread on the tanks go round n' round. Explosives are in the ground.
Seismic shockwaves right through your feet that break every fucking bone in your body.
This is it, suicide, this is how he died.
Be it my mind, or our mind's eye. His resting place is hallowed ground.