Throw your uniform away now and burn the flag above your head.
Toss your medals to the wind now before you're victoriously dead.
Turn your tanks around. Use the metal to build a playground.
Celebrate the broken gun.
Falling like a rain of unbearable pain, bombs fall.
Made to kill, launched at will, bombs fall.
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
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