Dear Mr. President

I don’t think it’s fair. You don’t seem to care.
There are protestors everywhere
Can’t you see they’re all so scared?
There’s too much smoke on the news
To see the truth about what’s true
But that’s our only view.

Dear Mr. President
You just sent my brother to the frontline
For a second time on my dime
DMP how can I sleep when he can’t eat
Cause he’s breathing desert sand
And there’s blood all over his hand

There are so many people talking, they keep talking
About how we’ve got the biggest guns
But they’re the ones that are sitting safe at home
They just don’t know
Oh god they just don’t know
That it’s all a part of the show
They’ll never really know

DMP where are you at when there’s combat involving you?
You’ve got your bird’s eye view
DMP all due respect I don’t expect for you to fight
Just make it right
Don’t let my brother die
I couldn’t even say goodbye

DMP you just don’t get the damage that you do
You’re not even here to see
What you do to my family

You’re destroying my family