Everyday your son fights an enemy with his weapon
Saves or destroys a thousand worlds
Still with a smile on his face

Her son never smiles
Your son's fears and anguishes leave in your presence
Her sons are alone

Your son can turn the horror off with one finger
Her sons are the horror


Warchildren you are
No future, no past
Their caring mother never lets them down

The best games, the best sounds,
The strongest sensations are all the can get
They don't need anything nor they ask

Born with a gun in their hands
Fed with blood
Used to mayhem and murder

Their mother loves them
The others just ignore 'em