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I come down from Ft. Lewis
First time PFC
And kickinâ in these doorways
Ainât natural to me
But now I got my orders
That evil lives inside
Hate the sin and kill the sinner
And do it all with pride
Here I lie bleedinâ
In a bombed out SUV
No more cell reception
No more light to see
Screaminâ hopeless questions
Dreaminâ âbout my home
Till the chopper comes from heaven
To gather up my bones
And Iâm standinâ on a ledge
Out here on the edge
And the moon is hanginâ high
It fills my dyinâ eyes
Little problems, little lies
Little problems, little lies
And all the young dudes fighting
So far away from home
Some are unsung heroes
Some are made of stone
And some of them are broken
The broken places strong
Some of them are crazy
Their innocence is gone
And Iâm standinâ on a ledge
Out here on the edge
And the moon is hanginâ high
And it fills my dyinâ eyes
Little problems, little lies
Ooh, little problems, little lies
Ooh, little problems, little lies
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