1942, picking up rations for the week
A girl looks for a candy bar to find them all but gone
The cashier says, "They've traveled to brave men across the sea"
She doesn't understand
Why aren't there any left for little girls like me?
The radio in the back room tries to make sense of it all
Where the story being written becomes the writing on the wall
Power making promises it never meant to keep
With the ocean between us and them rocking her to sleep
1973, there's a record on, her daughter sings along
Mama locked on the TV as she hushes her song
Far away in Vietnam concludes a senseless dispute
Mama weeps for the 20 years that we put death in a business suit
The television in the back room tries to make sense of it all
Where the story being written becomes the writing on the wall
Power making promises it never meant to keep
With the ocean between us and them rocking her to sleep
2004, granddaughter laughing, playing war like it's a game
Flat screen blaring, channels flip, and land on something strange
Tanks roll down the sand past crying women, wounded men
Grandma shuts them out, "You're not to watch the news again"
Then she tries to get her back, says, "Come and play with me"
But she says, "I don't feel like playing anymore"
As grandma tucks her in and tries to give her some relief
She fears her baby learned, what she already knew
The truth don't always set you free
The little one in her bedroom tries to make sense of it all
Where the story being written becomes the writing on the wall
Power making promises it never meant to keep
With the ocean between us and them rocking her to sleep