During the burial when I stared with my eyes spread 
Infant warrior has received a glimpse of idea 
If the war is wrong, then why you're a slave 
In your own country while killing dozen of foreigners 
This is your war, and I'm your weapon 
What a sad lies! 
Hold your [bad word] gun and aim it at innocent victim 
Standby, burn it, go! 
Wake up to be despised for 
Spared guilt on killing beautiful 
Shared the deadly dance again 
Death is now shining 
How many lives have you destroyed? 
The government is paying you for being plague 
For poorer and less-developed 
The idea stored inside you 
Which they don't want to be out 
and weight something 
It's all about genetic freedom 
So it shall be blocked forever in blotto mind 
With no way to retrieve it 
The only jest about it tells you: 
“Shut you mouth and be our knife”