There once was a man who fought in a war.
That man died in the arms of a whore.
He once was a hero for all to see.
But no one said that he died from a S.T.D.
He once charged the lines strong, proud, and guns a blazin.
While after the war his penis shriveled to the size of a raisin.
Click, bang, boom; this man could never die.
Except he was killed by a virus, something smaller than a fly.
He was a hero on the field of blood, sweat, and tears.
Who knew a hooker would end his years?
His strength once knew no bounds.
Twas the hookers love that put him in the ground.
Medals pinned to his chest, and his head held high.
No more money spent on the hookers, so now they cry.
Blood on his mind, and hate on his face.
Now his family hides his disgrace.
But after the war, from the love of a whore.
Now he is dead and his life is remembered no more.
