Oh.... Two, three, four!
Joey is out of school; didn't ****ing ask for much
Couldn't get a job—the Marines, his last hope
Down at the front line with a gun, not a toy
Kill many men, not asking what for
Joey's family, the comrades next to him
Die one by one—his luck is running out
Joey wrote back home; his parents unemployed
The rich is ****in' laughing; profits from the war
Joey is off to die for another senseless war
No arms, no legs—his mother cries at home
Joey wears the flag, so proud to fight for us
And for a government that doesn't give a ****
Marching to the left, marching to the right
Marching on the front line, what a ****in’ sight
Marching to the left, marching to the right
Marching on the frontline, what a way to die
Joey—Joey—Joey,
Tell me what you see now
Joey—Joey—Joey,
Please, come back home now