"We shoot the sick, the young, the lame,
We do our best to maim,
Because the kills all count the same,
****** sticks to kids.
Chorus: ****** sticks to kids,
****** sticks to kids.
Flying low across the trees,
Pilots doing what they please,
Dropping frags on refugees,
****** sticks to kids.
Goods in the open, making hay,
But I can hear the gunships say,
"There'll be no Chieu Hoi today,"
****** sticks to kids.
See those farmers over there,
Watch me get them with a pair,
Blood and guts just everywhere,
****** sticks to kids.
I've only seen it happen twice,
But both times it was mighty nice,
Shooting peasants planting rice,
****** sticks to kids.
******, son, is lots of fun,
Dropped in a bomb or shot from a gun,
It gets the ***** when on the run,
****** sticks to kids."