[ti:War Child]
[ar:The Cranberries]
[al:]
Who will save the war child baby
Who controls the keys
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'll shoot to kill, and kill your lover
Fine by me
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 Vietnam"
Beneath his shirt he wore the mark
He bore the mark of pride
A two-inch deep incision carved
Into his side
War Child!
Victim of political pride
Plant the seed, territorial Greed
Mind, the war child
We should mind, the war child
Whose the loser now
Whose the loser now
We're all the losers now
We're all the losers now
War Child, War Child