Buried in the Sun
de Thrice
I saw the fire on the television
The DOD or the CIA
If we're the cops, then the world's our prison
Two, four, six, eight, USA
Alright
The blood red, the black gold
This is the air we breathe
The beachhead, the backroad
Buried in the sun
She felt the thrum of the helicopter
A little taste of that shock and awe
She tried to run, but the bullets caught her
Courtesy of our coup d'état
Alright
The blood red, the black gold
This is the air we breathe
The beachhead, the backroad
Buried in the sun
The blood red, the black gold
This is the air we breathe
The beachhead, the backroad
Buried in the sun
Buried in the sun
Buried in the sun
I saw the fire on the television
The DOD or the CIA
We're the cops and the world's our prison
Two, four, six, eight, USA
Alright
The blood red, the black gold
This is the air we breathe
The beachhead, the backroad
Buried in the sun
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