Don'tcha know me?
I'm your wayward son
I've come to bring you truck axles
For your war machines
In afghanistan
The girl with the clipboard knows
Or does she?
Little matter
All i hear in the new dawn
Is a train whistle
And cars humming a distant freeway
Radio stations
Playing the same silly shit
To people sipping coffee and eating mcmuffins as they do their part
To ensure society prospers
Banks and malls
Are turning on and tuning in
And i fight the taliban
With my truck axles on only
Three hours sleep and
No bronze star
Little matter to me
And the loons
On a still northern lake
We just hear the train whistle
That will never find afghanistan
And sing along in our own
Wayward way
Good mornin america
How are ya?
