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dust fills up the lungs of a twelve year old child
blood is running down his dirty house tiles
his mother lays motionless, eyes in distress
they stare so coldly through the emptiness

frightened and scared his runs out his room
the ground shakes as the bombs go boom
he runs to the shack where his father could be
and in two piles he lay there, unable to breathe

run my son, run towards the setting sun
live your life completely before it is done
taken away by the politics from the west
i know you don't want to, but it's for the best

hot salty tears flow down his bloody cheeks
he runs through the desert, body grows weak
though he's tired and filled with such sorrow
he dreams of revenge that he'll bring tomorrow

broken and alone he joins the renegades
then train him to shoot and to cook grenades
with only one goal, to cause much destruction
we send you off now to obey our corruption

now at eighteen he starts life anew
living by himself in a town he once knew
where his family had once shared a life
brought down by war and a heart full of spite

he plans his attack and he goes on the offensive
no one escapes his wraith from obsession
they had taken his life so now he takes theirs
he has no family, so why should he care?

now the bombs once again rain on down
and the little boy inside him runs from the town
a blast from behind burns through his rough skin
turns to the city and basks it all in

his last dying thoughts are of his mom and his dad
i did you all wrong and i know you won't be so glad
but they took you from me and they never apologized
so what's one more body when there's nothing alive