War is the whore Or,
War is the horror Or,
War is the bore Or
War is the borer Of
The drill. Kill, Kill, Kill.
It fences us in
To what we can't win
Since killing's a sin
You throw them a fin.
"It's only five dollars,"
The prisoner hollers.
His mouth then clamps shut
On the barb in his lips,
He's caught in a rut
Till his tongue finally rips.
We both knew it tore
Because of the war.