(Yeah)

Balcony kings barking orders
From chrome clouds, cheap flags, old lies
Rust tasting duty
Re-runs of the same bruise
Static slogans truth sanded down to fit their parade
(Yeah)
(Yeah)
(Oh)

Sick of the war talk, sick of the score talk
Sick of the die for your country folklore talk
Suits with blood cold math counting bodies like trophies
Ghost flags, stage brag, generals shining name tags
Gasoline speeches, nightmare dreams
Prophets of fear selling futures cheap
Marching to war with children
Kids who don't know the world moves fast
Their leaders brag
One likes killing ants with a hammer while the other shoots fish in a barrel
Echo of the echo of the ones before
No true human being should love to make war
But rather make love to stop it
We won't march, we
(Woo)
Won't sing their half-truth hymns
(Ah)
I'll shout it anyway
And crack loud a laugh
(Yeah)

Sick of the war talk, hear me heartbeat fault line spark in the dark
Voice in the stack, flame in the park
Echo with the echo of the ones before
Just a human being who won't die for your war
We don't want your war
We don't need to have a war
We don't want your stinking war

We will keep singing
Till the sky stops shaking
Tear down the thrones of the hawks and hacks
Give the world back
To the ones who still feel something
When the sirens start

After a few weeks of PT and Marching Frank and Merlin get to train at the range