Our flag rises over their city
A site to me that isn’t pretty
A storm is brewing
The air is cooling
Little drops of sorrow sprinkle my face
I stand here complaining
I’m a disgrace
My country is dictating
Others have a slow pace
Little drops of sorrow sprinkle my face
Men and wives say their last goodbye
The next day those men die
The streets are soaked with their blood
While my mouth tastes like salty mud
Still, little drops of sorrow sprinkle my face
As I stop and stare at this forsaken place
When I see this country it’s a disaster zone
And that poor, old dog never got to chew his bone
Yet through all this I’m still eager to fight
I know what I must do
I will protect what is mine!