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lyrics

Do or Die

Automatic rifle in my hands and I hold it steady
Got the landing boats, Land-Rovers, and the soldiers ready
No one really knows the plan, no one told us anything
They just told us we’d be home in twenty or thirty weeks
And people in the streets would throw confetti
I’m totally sweating; my nerves are just a little bit
Tense; I confess, I’m full of adrenaline
I stick my head out the window and pull it in again
I can’t see shit; it’s like the ocean is infinite
But somewhere ahead of us is an island fortress
Defended by five battalions of the tyrants’ forces
And the sergeant told us “Gentlemen, this guy is remorseless
He tears his opponents apart with wild horses
And starves his own people, leaving many a child orphaned
And now he’s plotting to attack us, so we’re gonna try and force him
To surrender his power, and his natural resources”

Ours not to reason why, just to do or die
Suicide mission, crawlin’ through a sewer pipe
A sniper shot him through his eye; I wrote a letter to his wife
To give some meaning to his life, but who am I?

Some people say we shouldn’t even be in this fight
They’re outside lookin’ in though, so it’s easy to snipe
But when you’re on the front lines and there’s no relief in sight
You need to find yourself a decent reason to fight
I’m fighting for the soldiers on either side of me tonight
And none of us give a fuck if our leaders are right
Man some of these grunts can barely even read or write
But you don’t need a PhD to un-sheath a knife
And come to the aid of your brother in arms
We march on for each other under the cluster bombs
We’re just pawns, you can say what you want about us
But I’d like to see you try to play a chess game without us
And even those who criticize the cause of the mission
Claim to support us, but they give us the wrong equipment
That’s why I don’t even try to listen to politicians
I just signed up for this to pay my college tuition

Ours not to reason why, just to do or die
Suicide mission, crawling through a sewer pipe
A sniper shot him through his eye; I wrote a letter to his wife
To give some meaning to his life, but who am I?

My grandfather fought the Nazis in the Dutch militia
He told me: “The chance to fight a just war must’ve missed ya
Too bad no enemy today lives up to Hitler huh?”
The old man’s got a sense of humour – he’s fuckin’ jester
But what’s the measure of whether this is a just cause?
Even at home we’ve got some messed up laws
I got friends in prison ‘cause they like smoking’ up a lot
But they’ve got prescriptions for more potent drugs than pot
I just chalk up my palms and get a grip on my rifle
It’s real insightful when you say that "violence is a cycle"
But someone’s gotta fight those tyrants and psychos
It’s my job tonight, and that’s how life goes
I won’t let one member of my company down
Any second the bow of this boat will start runnin’ aground
And we’ll hear that thundering machine gun sound
So where’re the critics at now to pass their judgment around?

Ours not to reason why, just to do or die
Suicide mission, crawling through a sewer pipe
A sniper shot him through his eye; I wrote a letter to his wife
To give some meaning to his life, but who am I?

credits

from Apocalyptic Utopian Dreams in the Western Wilderness, released September 30, 2009

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Baba Brinkman New York, New York

Canadian hip-hop with an intellectual bent, nothing but sexy beats and sumptuous brain food.

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