Street Fighters Face

I'm waking up and staring out; it's kinda hard to see
I'm thinking back to growing up in Tupelo, Mississippi
I first left home when I was twenty and still really green
Sent me off to Camp Pendleton to become a Marine

I have a wife and child, who just turned five, this week
I miss him, so I can't believe that he can really speak
I wrote my wife once every week so she could hear the news
She wrote me back once every day to clear away the blues

They trained me well, I made the cut; they couldn't make me cry
I shined my boots and cleaned my gun and shouted, “Simplify!”
I made some friends and shared some fun, they caught a little flack
With a swagger and a prayer we flew into Iraq
With a swagger and a prayer we flew into Iraq

Sometimes at night I wonder what I'm doing in this place
It's hard to sleep; there's too much noise, I'm afraid I'll fall from grace
My CO says, “Don't worry, son. Just keep up the pace
I'm glad you're in my platoon; you've got a street fighters' face
I'm glad you're with me, son; you've got a street fighters' face”

The man said, “Mission Accomplished” on TV; we'd won the war
We celebrated a new life; we opened a new door
We danced a bit, and drank some beers, and then we drank some more
For once I finally fell asleep; I passed out on the floor

For weeks we cruised the streets; they said that we were not done
The sun's so hot, my clothes are wet; we're always on the run
We cruise Felusia in our jeep; just me and my three friends
A roadside bomb blew us to hell and made the metal bend

I woke up in Bethesda on a hospital bed
They finally broke the news to me that all my friends are dead
My legs are gone and I can't feel a thing on my face
Man, I don't even look like me; a monster took my place

Sometimes at night I wonder what I'm doing in this place
It's hard to sleep; there's too much noise, I think I fell from grace
My CO says, “Don't worry, son. Just keep up the pace
I'm glad you're in my platoon; you've got a street fighters' face
Yeah, you served your country well with your street fighters' face”

Well, my wife don't come around much; she found a new man
And I don't really blame her; I don't feel I'm worth a damn
And I stay in most nights with a bottle to wind down
Sometimes I try to smile, but mostly I just frown

My son's half grown up now; he visits me sometimes
We share some stories and some drinks; I usually end up crying
He pushes me in my wheelchair outside for a walk
When people see my face they always turn away in shock

I wonder what we fought for and if it was a lie
I pray to God for my dead friends; I still say, “Simplify!”
I wish that I could just go back, or somehow hit a race
It's just me all alone with my street fighters' face

Sometimes at night I wonder what I'm doing in this place
It's hard to sleep; there's too much noise, I think I fell from grace
My CO says, “Don't worry, son. Just keep up the pace
I'm glad you're in my platoon; you've got a street fighters' face
Yeah, you served your country well with your street fighters' face”

I'm waking up and staring out; it's kinda hard to see
I'm thinking back to growing up in Tupelo, Mississippi