Here is a tale of blood, guts and war
The war is over but its still raging within
I can hear the bombs going off,hear the screaming as they hit the ground.
I’m back in Rhode Island Street, Highland Park, Detroit.
War has turned my heart to stone.
Now that you're gone I live alone, in this empty home remembering every word you've said.
Didn't bother to learn to become a father, old school all the way.
A 72 gran torino on display, I lived to work
Retired from 30 years in the auto plant.
Slowly the world has passed me by.
More black, more brown, more slant eyed
Still I know right from wrong
It’s the same here as in Hong Kong
When coward gangs seek power and control
I have to let them know they are digging themselves a hole
The weak and defenceless look with tired eyes
They let themselves become victims of a drive by shooting
I never express feelings of regret or remorse
In the night I made a plan
Go without a knife or gun in my hand
defeat my enemy with my brain
Making them believe I was insane
In an attempt to take on the entire gang
Yet they listened to my brave harangue
So I reached into my jacket for a lighter
They reacted like any street fighter
Opened fire to stop this threat
The church bells ringing
My body now in a casket
If you listen closely you can hear me say i'm the one to finish things