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It's 11:59 at Radio Free America, and this is Uncle Sam
With music and the truth until dawn
Right now, we've got a few words for some of our
Brothers and sisters in the occupied zone
The chair is against the wall
The chair is against the wall
John has a long moustache
John has a long moustache
It's twelve o'clock, Americans, another day closer to victory
And for all of you out there on and behind the lines
This is your song
This war is a lie
Judge the righteous from their place on high
But I wonder who they'd blame
If their ivory towers were set aflame
And how did it seem
To watch 9/11 on a TV screen?
While we lived through it
City's burning in a fiery pit
We march across the killing fields
We set the laws with swords and shield
Our funeral pyres light up the sky
We send our children off to die
Treacherous paths we walk alone
Our hands and hearts have turned to stone
These are the chances that we take
The sacrifices that we make
Now a shaky hand
Brings the news from a far off land
This man, they cut him down
Spilled his blood on foreign ground
His loss should be a sign
Of valor to those left behind
The end, the letter read
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but your son is dead"
We march across the killing fields
We set the laws with swords and shield
Our funeral pyres light up the sky
We send our children off to die
Treacherous paths we walk alone
Our hands and hearts have turned to stone
These are the chances that we take
The sacrifices we must make
We remember, each of us gathered here today, safely sheltered
Remember the graves far away, nurses, soldiers
Children stabbed in the back
But remembering is not enough
Hating is not enough, sacrifices
What do they ask of us, the heroes we mourn?
What do they ask of us, our marching sons across the seas?
Stand shoulder to shoulder with them
Forging the guns of vengeance
We march across the killing fields
We set the laws with swords and shield
Our funeral pyres light up the sky
We send our children off to die
Treacherous paths we walk alone
Our hands and hearts have turned to stone
These are the chances that we take
The sacrifices we must make
We march across the killing fields
We set the laws with swords and shield
Our funeral pyres light up the sky
We send our children off to die
Treacherous paths we walk alone
Our hands and hearts have turned to stone
These are the chances that we take
The sacrifice we can't remake
Written by: Nick Roth, Rik Millhouse
