Oh.... Two, three, four!

Joey is out of school; didn't fucking 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 fuckin' laughing; profits from the war

Go!

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 fuck

Go!

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 fuck
Marching to the left, marching to the right
Marching on the front line, what a fuckin’ 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

Marching to the left, marching to the right
Marching on the front line, what a fuckin’ sight
Marching to the left, marching to the right
Marching on the frontline, what a way to die