Soldier Machismo - Fiction Plane

I don’t wanna fight anyway

I don’t wanna take the things you own

I don’t wanna put myself at risk

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’ve saved me from

And what is there to say that if

They all lay down

My home would be gone

I wanna put glue down on your gun

Imagine pointing that thing at your son

When he dies you’ll tell us we’ve won

And there’ll be no invasion

Broken shells and twisted metal

Flaming egos, wilting petals

Look outside your eyes are sore

Now tell me who won the war