A private war
Is what they conducted on our happy streets,
Laying bombs around our innocent feet
'The children of the troubles'
That's what they called us
He did this, she did that:
Tit for tat
A ratta-tat-POP!
Down goes another body
Many more hearts broken
And all in the name of our freedom
While they tear up our magical kingdom
A ratta-tat-POP!
As long as they get rich and the doctors sow another stitch,
Holding together what they have torn asunder
In their gangster/political, private war
Someone, somewhere, believes they've settled another score
Tit for tat, A ratta-tat-POP!
