White Mâché

Came home soiled from a dirty war Thought I knew just what I fought it for Big brass bands, apple pie All the reasons seemed so cut and dry Overseas a million miles away Through a million dusty hard fought days Bombed out towns, smoky skies Unshed tears have got me wondering why They say the eyes are windows to the soul Please don't look to closely, there's nothing left to show I hang around where I once played, trying to fake it through the day Never really worked out anyway Cause it takes a fool to fall for roses made with white mache Oh it takes a fool to fall for roses made with white mache I've tried every job in this whole town My achin' mind refused to settle down Uncle Sam taught lethal skills Odds and ends now help to pay the bills Left home feeling' more than ten feet tall Quite a long hard way for one to fall Pride it a hand grenade Spangled banner dulled into a grey They say this place I live is called a home But it feels for like a prison, feels so numb it feels so cold They tell me I'm a special one, to serve my country with a gun So why do I still fell the need to run No I ain't a fool to fall for roses made with white mache No I ain't a fool to fall for roses made with white mache They say that God forgives the man who tries But they've never been to Baghdad Never heard those mothers' cries And when I lay me down to sleep Will He take my soul to keep Or will He cast me out into the deep Cause He ain't a fool to fall for roses made with white mache No he ain't a fool to fall for roses made with white mache