Oh my name it means nothing,
And my age it means less.
I'm far from my home,
High above the mid west.
And as I look down,
On some far city lights,
I pray God to look over,
My family tonight.
I'm weary of hearing
That God's on the side.
Of mothers and fathers,
And jet planes that fly.
That drop bombs on civilians,
To even the score.
Where's the God of the children?
In the rubble of war.
I believe the self martyr,
At least out the truth.
And the vengeful war mongers,
Have flow this for us.
But the innocent victims,
Have no place to hide.
When death comes without warning,
With God on its side.
When they call on their guard,
To justify their attacks,
Just serves to remind me,
The wolf covers its tracks.