He is part of guerilla warfare he is eleven years of age
He will never have a protected youth his education consists of rage
He is marching through Colombian rainforests
African jungles or Cambodian rice fields
Killing soldiers more than twice his age using trees as natural shields
He playground is a battlefield his playmates are hunted men
We worry about what we have for dinner tonight he hopes to make it till then

These little soldiers of war
Playing with fire
But do they really understand what they're fighting for?
Tiny soldiers of war
Playing with fire
But do they really understand'puberty might be inaccessible

His mom and dad were killed by the army he saw it
With his own two eyes
So every uniform looks suspicious to him being
Prejudiced is then a logical vice
You cannot compare our worst memories with the
Things this boy has seen
The only toy he ever played with is huge M-19
An eleven year old freedom fighter living
Unimaginably wild
But ask him what he wants out of life he'll probably
Say I'd like to be a child

Light flashes all around the screaming of the mutilated sets your teeth on edge
The ground is covered with dead witnesses of another bloody armed conflict
Farmers housewives lawyers and children dying for the people
How can democracy be of such vital interest that ten year olds die for it
It's lunacy pushed to extremes