How I remember the history I have seennI was just a young boy, the horror I couldnt foreseenAll the pain that comes with warnAll the scars that never healnHere in paradise the price is cheapnYoung men die for greednnAcross the ocean in a land they call VietnamnYoung men dying is all it would costnWe were told and proudly believednThey would fight to keep us freenHere in America the price is cheapnYoung men die for what?nnMy brother, the soldier was a hero who survivednHe'd tell the stories of men who died without dreamsnAnd they fight for men twice their agenThe smell of death made his life changenThe price of paradise is stained with bloodnWhy?nnAll pawns and puppets of flesh and bonenWill die for their leaders far from their homesnThese are men who died very youngnAfraid to see that their cause was unjustnWhy couldnt they live for life?nNot die to survive