I come down from Ft. Lewis
First time PFC
And kickin’ in these doorways
Ain’t natural to me

But now I got my orders
That evil lives inside
Hate the sin and kill the sinner
And do it all with pride

Here I lie bleedin’
In a bombed out SUV
No more cell reception
No more light to see

Screamin’ hopeless questions
Dreamin’ ‘bout my home
Till the chopper comes from heaven
To gather up my bones

And I’m standin’ on a ledge
Out here on the edge
And the moon is hangin’ high
It fills my dyin’ eyes

Little problems, little lies
Little problems, little lies

And all the young dudes fighting
So far away from home
Some are unsung heroes
Some are made of stone

And some of them are broken
The broken places strong
Some of them are crazy
Their innocence is gone

And I’m standin’ on a ledge
Out here on the edge
And the moon is hangin’ high
And it fills my dyin’ eyes

Little problems, little lies
Ooh, little problems, little lies
Ooh, little problems, little lies