I cast all my winnings away,
Into boats out to deserts where the blood turns to clay,
In fields where brave men gave their lives away,
If you listen closly, you can still hear them say,
Why did I leave the family I love,
For dreams of a collage and uncle Sam's bluff, for a name on a grave in Arlington cemitary,
He was a loving Father, an husband, a brother, a son
In Exile: III. The first arrow the bow of exile will shoot
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