Bad Times

Verse 1
Born in the bad times, here you can't choose sides.
We walk on a thin line, trying not to really shine.
We war with our own side, both think that we're right.
We live on the darkside where truth is a white lie.
Here in these bad times.

Verse 2
Soldiers sent to take command from people who don't understand.
Some people ask for them to stay, while other throw them their grenades.
It's had to tell, just who's a friend, will these dangerous times, just never end?
There's suspicion in the air we breath, these freedom songs are no relief.
Here in these bad times.

Verse 3
The money comes from far away, to some they call it foreign aid.
it buys the bombs that fuel hate, our many thanks to those who pay.
There's murder in the homeland, the truth is hard to understand.
Let's sit down and we will drink some beers and maybe they will disappear.
Here in these bad times.

(c)1990 Words and music by John Robert Hunter
(p)2019 Sentric Music Publishing