(Verse 1)
Well, I signed on the dotted line, nineteen years old and lean
Traded my faded denim for camouflage green
They promised me an education, said I'd see the world so wide
Now I’m standing in the desert with nowhere left to hide
Yeah, I’m standing in the desert, watching my buddy bleed
All to protect some politician’s corporate greed.
(Chorus)
It’s the modern day blues, painted red, white, and blue
We do the dirty work they're too afraid to do
It ain't about the flag, brother, it ain't about the score
It’s just poor boys fighting a rich man’s war.
(Verse 2)
The Army grunts are humping rucksacks, kicking down the doors
While the senators in Washington are buying up third floors
The Marine Corps devils are eating dirt and taking fire
While the stock market keeps climbing higher and higher
Yeah, the market keeps on climbing, like a rocket to the moon
But down here in the sandbox, we're dancing to a different tune.
(Verse 3)
The Navy boys are floating on a billion-dollar steel grey town
Launching jets off the deck while the sun goes down
The Air Force jockeys are way up high, dropping death from above
They don't see the eyes of the people they got no love for
They don't see the eyes, man, they just see a grid on a screen
We’re just grease in the gears of the military machine.
(Chorus)
It’s the modern day blues, painted red, white, and blue
We do the dirty work they're too afraid to do
It ain't about the flag, brother, it ain't about the score
It’s just poor boys fighting a rich man’s war.
(Bridge)
Now, sometimes they send us in when the hurricane hits land
Passing out water bottles with a helping hand
They call that humanitarian, say that’s our great reward
Seeing a kid smile for a second before we pull the sword
But don't get it twisted, that feeling don't last long
Because war is hell, and hell is where we belong.
(Guitar Solo - Screaming, anguished slide guitar solo that mimics the sound of sirens and bombs dropping)
(Verse 4)
So when that liberty call comes ringing, and we hit a foreign port
We’re looking for oblivion of the heavy drinking sort
We hit the neon bars hard, trying to drown what we saw
Ignoring every order and every military law
Yeah, we party like tomorrow ain't never gonna come
Trying to make the memories just a little bit numb.
(Outro)
Yeah, pour me another whiskey, bartender, make it a double shot
I gotta forget about the friends that I forgot
The medal on my chest, it don't mean a damn thing
When you hear the rich man’s cash register ring.
It just rings and rings...
While the poor boys sing the blues.
(Fade out on a low, sustaining bass note and a final scratchy guitar lick)