| We have no place to go, this, the time of
war, |
| Trembling, we hold our flag. |
| All in all, I’d rather stick it to a whore:
|
| Get a rubber, close the door, |
| Just hope my sex wont sag. |
| There’s no safe bed in the time of war.
|
| Overhead the jets roar, |
| Doin’ that kill-and-be-killed rag. |
| I’d really rather stick it to a whore.
|
| The children hide under the floor, |
| My wife has turned into an old hag, |
| Life sucks in this, the time of war.
|
| I remember when life was a bore, |
| My lovely wife, a nag, |
| I’d sneak away, stick it to a whore.
|
| Now will my stocks soar? |
| Will the boys come home in a bag? |
| I want safety in this, the time of war: |
| I’m the stay-at-home American war whore. |
