Send in the choppers
Bring down the axe
Here comes Agent Orange
With his mortar attacks
Void of any conscience
Wiped out from the start
Never find compassion
In his purple heart

Oh oh
This move is obscene
I don't feel part of
This killing culture
Oh oh
The glassy eyes that I've seen
I won't be entertained
By this ultramarine

Ultramarine

Liberation comes
In jeans and coca-cola
Liberty this bullet's
Got your name on it
You make the films
And you're making history
Napalm-burger-bars
Popcorn victory

Oh oh
This move is obscene
I don't feel part of
This killing culture
Oh oh
Here's punishment for your dreams
I won't be entertained
By this ultramarine

Ultramarine

Oh oh
I don't feel part of
This killing culture
Oh oh
I'm afraid, I'm repulsed
By this ultramarine

Ultramarine
Ultramarine

The year is 1963
I'm 6 years old
A monk in some far off land
Dowses himself in petrol
And strikes a match
I'm watching television
A black silhouette
Engulfed in white flame
Still moving after what seems
A very long time
Burning Buddha
The room is filled with blue light
We change channels
And watch a James Cagney movie
Marching soldiers singing
"Over there over there..."