Woke up this morning
To the sound of a slamming door
My baby had left me
To fight another war
Wearing sneakers and jeans
Has a couple of screens
full of chat
She's the last earthly noise
in the ears of the boys
chewing khat
Woke up this evening
To the sound of her coming home
My baby's the captain
Of a killer drone.
When I ask how her day went
She has nothing to tell
When I ask what it's like
She just says, "Go to hell,
Go to hell."
Said "I might have shot a bad guy
Anyway, I called the shot."
Said "He might have done some bad things.
Or maybe not.
Maybe not."
Woke up this morning
To the sound of a slamming door
My baby had left me
To fight another war
Woke up this morning
Woke up this morning
Woke up this morning
[[ A song about the remote pilots, the remote trigger men and women who put someone in the crosshairs on their screen -- based on spy reports and on what they can see from the air -- and then fire on command. The uncertainty, the stress, the weird distance from the results. Commuting off to war in an office building and commuting home again at night. ]]
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