iraq

i was an army mechanic

i worked with the men

i worked on my back

i tried to fit in

talked wrenches and ratchets

multi-meters and scales

grease on my face

grease on my hands

grease under my nails

and it was so hard to see

till it attacked

but my enemy

wasn't iraq

soldiers bartered and traded

that's the way our world worked

trading favors for favors

in the sand and the dirt

what i wouldn't give them

they tried to take

and when i refused them

they made me pay

and it was so hard to see

until it attacked

but my enemy

wasn't iraq

i stood my ground

i didn't give in

i drew a line

again and again

when they whistled and whispered

when the wind kicked up dust

i'd look to the sky

ask the lord why

i have no one to trust?

and it was so hard to see

until it attacked

but my enemy

wasn't iraq

a salute and a wink

a little pat on my back

my enemy

wasn't iraq