Dear Mr. President,
I'm a soldier with the 82nd Airborne stationed overseas.
My family and my friends all pray that God is watching over me.
Even God can't save us now.
Mr. President, I'm writing you this poem,
And I've sent along this picture of my family back at home.
I hear my heart beat loud in these killing fields alone.
I always hit my target; I just miss my happy home.
When will be the end of this all?
Tell me, when will be the end of this all?
Now that our back is against the wall.
Whoa, oh yea
I joined the army like my father did and his father did before.
I saw Army green and canvas look like perfect art of war.
The images I see now are like ones I saw before.
How am I a hero if I don't know what it's for?
Days are getting longer, nights I never get to sleep,
And I just had a newborn daughter that I hope I get to see.
I've got bloodshed on my conscience; she's so innocent and free.
I just killed some baby's father, better him instead of me.
When will be the end of this all?
Tell me, when will be the end of this all?
Now that our back is against the wall?
Mankind is getting small.
Before the war, life it was beautiful, we marched out in the sun.
Now it's stars and stripes at funerals, our darkest days have come.
Dying in this combat zone, it scares me half to death,
"˜Cause if I don't make it to heaven, what's to live for after death?
I've seen mothers of the friends I've lost out marching in a crowd,
"˜Cause their sons wear purple hearts inside their coffins in the ground.
When they left for war, they thought their mommies would be proud.
When they faced off with their enemies, they fought to take them down.
Hatred is tearing our soul apart,
Separation is tearing the world apart,
Corruption is playing its part.