Hot Sand

Still fighting
Still dying
In the white hot sand
And we can't let go
Of the old black gold
So comfortable
Can't see
A star-spangled coffin on TV
So parents won't care who's got the remote control to airborne drones
Kinda makes me feel like bringing the war home
They put the panthers in a pen
Silenced the weather men
Won't feel the draft again
'Cuz the rich kids are always complaining
And there's an army in the ghetto that's waiting
To trade-in hand guns for rifles and grenades
Singing we shall overcome
And get 'r done
In the white hot sand
Easy to see that it's gone so wrong
Hard to believe that it's still going on
Mad for a minute when there was nothing to find
Mad for a minute, but out of sight... out of mind
So comfortable
Can't see
The damage done on a suburban street
And people worry more about supply and demand
And so we remain - so we remain
In the white hot sand