Street Fighter's Face

I'm waking up and staring out; it's kinda hard to see
 I'm thinking back to growing up in Tupelo, Mississippi
 I first left home when I was twenty and still really green
 Sent me off to Camp Pendleton to become a Marine
 I have a wife and child, who just turned five, this week
 I miss him, so I can't believe that he can really speak
 I wrote my wife once every week so she could hear the news
 She wrote me back once every day to clear away the blues
 They trained me well, I made the cut; they couldn't make me cry
 I shined my boots and cleaned my gun and shouted, "Simplify!"
 I made some friends and shared some fun, they caught a little flack
 With a swagger and a prayer we flew into Iraq
 With a swagger and a prayer we flew into Iraq
 Sometimes at night I wonder what I'm doing in this place
 It's hard to sleep;
 there's too much noise, I'm afraid I'll fall from grace
 My CO says, "Don't worry, son. Just keep up the pace
 I'm glad you're in my platoon; you've got a street fighters' face
 I'm glad you're with me, son; you've got a street fighters' face"
 The man said, "Mission Accomplished" on TV; we'd won the war
 We celebrated a new life; we opened a new door
 We danced a bit, and drank some beers, and then we drank some more
 For once I finally fell asleep; I passed out on the floor
 For weeks we cruised the streets; they said that we were not done
 The sun's so hot, my clothes are wet; we're always on the run
 We cruise Felusia in our jeep; just me and my three friends
 A roadside bomb blew us to hell and made the metal bend
 I woke up in Bethesda on a hospital bed
 They finally broke the news to me that all my friends are dead
 My legs are gone and I can't feel a thing on my face
 Man, I don't even look like me; a monster took my place
 Sometimes at night I wonder what I'm doing in this place
 It's hard to sleep; there's too much noise, I think I fell from grace
 My CO says, "Don't worry, son. Just keep up the pace
 I'm glad you're in my platoon; you've got a street fighters' face
 Yeah, you served your country well with your street fighters' face"
 Well, my wife don't come around much; she found a new man
 And I don't really blame her; I don't feel I'm worth a damn
 And I stay in most nights with a bottle to wind down
 Sometimes I try to smile, but mostly I just frown
 My son's half grown up now; he visits me sometimes
 We share some stories and some drinks; I usually end up crying
 He pushes me in my wheelchair outside for a walk
 When people see my face they always turn away in shock
 I wonder what we fought for and if it was a lie
 I pray to God for my dead friends; I still say, "Simplify!"
 I wish that I could just go back, or somehow hit a race
 It's just me all alone with my street fighters' face
 Sometimes at night I wonder what I'm doing in this place
 It's hard to sleep; there's too much noise, I think I fell from grace
 My CO says, "Don't worry, son. Just keep up the pace
 I'm glad you're in my platoon; you've got a street fighters' face
 Yeah, you served your country well with your street fighters' face"
 I'm waking up and staring out; it's kinda hard to see
 I'm thinking back to growing up in Tupelo, Mississippi