• As I walk along the road,
    I whistled a good tune,
    And I thought to myself,
    Why are we fighting?
    We fight and fight over things for years,
    It's like a never ending horror,
    I recalled how my friends were bringing
    their fathers stuff to school each day,
    After they were told that their fathers were dead,
    I wondered if I would end up in the same perdictement,
    Then I asked myself again 'Why are we Fighting?'
    A lot of people can't answer my question,
    So I continued to walked down the street,
    Whistling a good tune,
    With all the tragic thoughts in my mind.