Dance under the missile glow. Over the eastern sea. Gunshot by the side of the road. Highway scenery. . Revolution got no goals. Except keepin' the family together.
Rappers, troubadours sneaking in the back door. Crazy fortune teller drinking on the kitchen floor all night. Racing down division at a hundred and three.
In Flander's fields where the poppies blow. Between the crosses, row by row. To mark our places and in the sky. The larks go bravely singing, "Fly". Scarce heard amongst the guns below.