Who will save the war child baby? Who controls the
key?
The web we weave is thick and sordid, fine by me
At times of war, we're all the losers, there's no victory
We'll shoot to kill and kill your lover, fine by me

War child, victim of political pride
Plant the seed, territorial greed
Mind the war child, we should mind the war child
I spent last winter in New York, and came upon a man
He was sleeping on the streets and homeless,
he said "I fought in Vietnam"
Beneath his shirt he wore the mark, he bore the bark
with pride
A two inch deep incision carved, into his side

Who's the loser now, eh?
Who's the loser now, eh?
We're all losers now
We're all losers now