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