There he sits, it�s just a little boy, a little boy playing
with a big boy's toy.
On a trip, another little boy stands.
What is this?
A reason to destroy.
A city cowboy that it helped employ.
What is this on the little boy's hands?
What is this?
Another twist about another boy whose brother was
another ready to deploy.
On a ship to a foreign wasteland.
What is this? It�s just another ploy, another little boy that it helped destroy.
A little kid who will never understand.
What is this?
Hands down it�s heads above me and I can�t carry on until they�re gone.
And it�s so foolish of me to wait impatiently as the shots ring on and on and on..
This time it�s a little bit harder, I thought that you would�ve been smarter.
This time it�s a little bit harder, I don�t understand.
You don�t want to believe it, although you can still see it.
You don�t want to believe it fits inside their hands.
What is this?
Now where�s the little boy?
The little one who used to come and play cowboys?
Isn�t this where the little boy ran?
Hand to fist, sometimes you can�t avoid.
You can�t avoid the choices with an infant voice.
They resist in defining the man.
What is this?
What is this?
Hands down it�s heads above me and I can�t carry on until they�re gone.
And it�s so foolish of me to wait impatiently as the shots ring on and on and on..
This time it�s a little bit harder,
I thought that you would�ve been smarter.
This time it�s a little bit harder.
I don�t understand.
You don�t want to believe it, although you can still see it.
You don�t want to believe it fits inside their hands.
Don�t try to take it from me.
Don�t try to turn me on.