Who has saved the war child baby?
Who controls the key?
The web we weave is thick and sordid
Fine by me
At times of war we're all the losers
There's no victory
We shoot to kill and kill your lover
Fine by me
Chorus:
War child, victim of political pride
Plant the seed, territorial greed
Mind the war child, we should mind the war child
I spent last winter in New York
And came upon a man
He was sleeping on the streets and homeless
He said
"I fought in Vietman"
Beneath his shirt he wore the mark
He bore the mark of pride
A two-inch deep incision carved,
into his side
chorus
Who's the loser now? Hey
Who's the loser now?
We're all the losers now
We're all the losers now
War child
War child