I don I don I don So someone else can take their throne I would put them all in a room Give em all the guns and clips they need I would put a seed in their minds That foreigners are based on greed Soldier machismo and his morals Who am I to know what they And what is there to say that if they all lay down My home would be gone I wanna put glue down your gun Imagine pointing that thing at your son When he dies you And there Broken shells and twisted metal Flaming egos, wilting petals Look outside your eyes are sore Now tell me who won the war