Don’t ask, because I won’t tell
Your sick voyeurism can go to hell
Askin’ things like, “how many terrorists did you kill?”
Your trying to get off on some sort of vicarious thrill
You’ve no right to pick my brain
I’ve done enough, now I’ll sit with my pain
You pretend to care
In hopes that I’ll share
A grand adventure tale
That’ll set your soul to sail
Or, maybe you want to tell me soldiers are scum
Though you’ve never left the borders of this little town that your from
The public’s lack of sensitivity
Tend to cause some vets to act with hostility
Then we get arrested
In court we are again tested
Then locked away
Far from the light of day
To keep you feeling good
knowing you sent us to do what you thought we should
Why should you suffer
For the pain of me and my sisters and brothers
We took their bullets and bombs
Now we wait to fill our own tombs
So you and your voyeurism can go to hell
But, please don’t ask, because I won’t tell
Tags: Stephen Handlin