Agent Orange

This is how you hold your American flag This is how you hold your American flag So this is how you hold your patri-fucking-otic flag We're all a bunch of fucking disgraces There sits an old man he's waiting and typing and paying his tax to the law I see him through the window sill There you are laughing and joking and waiting and praying for life to be free And I know that you mean him well Losing track of days Staring to sky As the old man yells There she lies bleeding and crying and wasting life on a bed she has only mad And I know she would have done him well Stands up anger and walks to the doorway where he can yell clearly at me. And I'm not sure I know what he means. Losing track of days Staring to sky As the old man yells Losing track of days Staring to sky As the old man dies This is how you hold your American fucking, fucking flag This is how you hold your funny little flag As the old man dies As the old man dies Losing track of days As the old man dies