Who am I to say what's right or wrong
But who are you to pull the trigger on their enemy
Young man joined the front lines to still his stormy soul
Now all that's left are the memories of old

They all fall down
Some won't survive
Trying to escape
The memory of what they became

I tried hard to be proud of my service
But, all I could feel was Shame
The racism could no longer mask
The reality of the occupation

These were people
These were human beings
I feel guilt any time I see a mother with her children
Like the one who cried hysterically
And screamed that we were worse than Saddam

As we forced her from her home
I feel guilt any time I see a young girl
Like the one I grabbed by the arm
And dragged into the street
We were told we were fighting terrorists

The real terrorist was me
And the real terrorism was this occupation
Who am I to say what's right or wrong
But who are you to pull the trigger on their enemy
Young man joined the front lines to still his stormy soul

Now all that's left are the memories of war
They all fall down
Some won't survive
Trying to escape the memories of what they became
They all fall down
Some won't survive
Trying to escape the memories of what they became

While those weapons are created and owned by this government
They are harmless without people willing to use them
Those who send us to war
Do not have to pull a trigger or lob a mortar round
They do not have to fight the war
They merely have to sell the war
They need a public whose willing to send their soldiers into harms way
They need soldiers willing to kill and be killed without question

Soldiers, Sailors, Marines, Airmen
Have nothing to gain from this occupation
The vast majority of people living in the U. S
Have nothing to gain from this occupation
In fact not only do we have nothing to gain
But we suffer more because of it
We lose limbs
Endure trauma
And give our lives
Our families have to watch flag draped coffins lowered into the earth