This country is so fucked up,
And we're out for blood.
Invasion,
Of a different country,
Some fuck is money hungry.
Million and millions groan everyday,
Shift up in the drug trade.
Organized crime is an underground game,
Lots of fucking money to be made.
Return to the poppy fields.
No surprise or big deal.
Return to the poppy fields.
More people to be killed.
Return to the poppy fields.
No surprise or big deal.
Return to the poppy fields.
More people to be killed.
Overthrow the government,
Find out how to kill some.
Fill up the needles,
And knock down the men.
My people, my dream,
Everything is what it seems.
My mother, my father,
Love me when I'm dead?
Addiction is the last thing I remember,
And the next day I'm six feet under.
My purpose is down the drain,
Leave me without a sense or direction.
Return to the poppy fields.
No surprise or big deal.
Return to the poppy fields.
No surprise or big deal.
Return to the poppy fields.
More people to be killed.
Return to the poppy fields.
No surprise or big deal.
Is this it. Is this it?
To survive.
Six feet under.
All the children gather with a sense of wonder.
Will his reign lead.
What does the needle,
Make his arm bleed?
Exchanging a needle for an arm.
Your soul is gone.