I saw the fire on the television
The DOD or the CIA?
If we're the cops, then the world's our prison
Two, four, six, eight, USA, alright

The blood red, the black gold
This is the air we breathe
The beachhead, the backroad
Buried in the sun

She felt the thrum of the helicopter
A little taste of that shock and awe
She tried to run but the bullets caught her
Courtesy of our coup d'etat, alright

The blood red, the black gold
This is the air we breathe
The beachhead, the backroad
Buried in the sun

The blood red, the black gold
This is the air we breathe
The beachhead, the backroad
Buried in the sun

Buried in the sun
Buried in the sun

I saw the fire on the television
The DOD or the CIA?
If we're the cops, then the world's our prison
Two, four, six, eight, USA, alright

The blood red, the black gold
This is the air we breathe
The beachhead, the backroad
Buried in the sun

The blood red, the black gold
This is the air we breathe
The beachhead, the backroad
Buried in the sun

Copyright: Wixen Music Publishing
Writer(s): Dustin Kensrue, Eddie Breckenridge, Riley Breckenridge, Teppei Teranishi