Another rainy morning mingling at the market
|
Bartering for food for another day
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Rifle shots ring out behind the crumbling buildings
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Executions have begun
|
|
Sprawled in the square are today's broken bodies
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Lots to pick clean if you're first and quick
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Rift through their pockets, peel off their clothes
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To wear or sell when you wash out the blood
|
|
Run my little brother
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Run to the chicken farm
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Opportunity is calling
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You might even find a watch
|
|
We're going down
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To the chicken farm
|
|
Napalm rains no more
|
But the war goes on
|
Little brother died playing at the dump today
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He found a new toy and held it up proud
|
Then it blew him to bits
|
|
How many more children
|
Will be killed or die at birth
|
Deformed by Agent Orange
|
In our food chain forever more
|
We're going down
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To the chicken farm
|
This time we'll buy our way out
|
I've got a plan; you wait and see
|
I smuggled you this map
|
In the gash I sliced in my thigh
|
I hope I'm there to join you, love
|
We're blown to bits one by one in this camp
|
We crawl shaking through the fields at gunpoint all day
|
To defuse leftover landmines-by hand
|
We shiver on the deck and stiffen for the worst
|
If the pirates come around we might as well be dead
|
We'll be thrown in the sea
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Or butchered if we're women
|
All in the name of gold
|
One foot in a land we can barely understand
|
Can't speak the tongue of Yankee hospitality
|
Our kids at school get beat up
|
To the tune of "Boat people, go home"
|
|
Sliced with a machete
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From the breast of our homeland
|
Our new world tries to spit us out
|
But it sure beats the chicken farm
|
|
-----------------
|
Chicken Farm
|
| Dead Kennedys |
