I want to lay down in a ditch,
with my balloon and my gun,
wait until the morning comes,
just to watch the sun.

Then I will put it slowly
to my temple, aiming the barrel
like a confetti tube to a birthday long ago.
And in those little hearts was innocence.
We used to play war in the yard.

They never told me how real it would be,
how much it would scar.
God, we used to play war in the yard.