Little Problems, Little Lies (Ann Wilson)

I come down from Ft. Lewis First time PFC And kicking in these doorways Ain't natural to me But now I got my orders That evil lives inside Hate the sin and kill the sinner And do it all with pride Here I lie a'bleedin' In a bombed out SUV No more cell reception No more light to see Screaming hopeless questions Dreaming 'bout my home Till the chopper comes from heaven To gather up my bones I'm standing on a ledge Out here on the edge The moon is hanging high It fills my dying eyes Little problems, little lies And all the young dudes fighting So far away from home Some are unsung heroes Some are made of stone Some of them are broken The broken places strong Some of them are crazy Their innocence is gone Standing on a ledge Out here on the edge The moon is hanging high And it fills my dying eyes Little problems, little lies