The Prodigal Son - Fallujah

Dreams of us would carry me on

That day has come and gone

Born to be the prodigal son

We are worn men soon to become extinct

Reminding ourselves to breathe

Your curse upon the chosen son

I spited you that day

Defiance was the plight

I curse the night I had to leave

That day of my infant life

Movement entangled with grace

Swarming like vapor waves

The last choice you could have made

You chose to wither away

Wither away (x2)

The broken heart of the mother

The shattered arm of the father