Come on Comrades!

We move on through sand and dust

I see rotted mounds and metal all rust

Pieces of them all strewn about

All of us, without a doubt

Knowing the end was not quick

Knowing a bullet feels not like a flick

Medicine and Guns are in short supply

All of us knowing the reason why:

Our enemy cuts us off from civilization

Alone in our little Nation

No help from the Coalition

Retreating not of our own volition

Forced to leave behind our homes and heritage

Defending our people becomes imperative

We have lost our families and broken our bones

While Americans sit safely in their homes

Jordan lost their pilot, America their pride

Britain’s youth swept away by the tide

Syria lost their power and their land

Iraqi bases and fortifications are all but manned

But still we tribesman fight on

To show what it means to know the Quran

All throughout our Middle-East

The enemy never stops, sleeps, or even feast

They hunger for more land and bodies to consume

Our dead they always exhume

Our women are forced fight

For they must show their might

For our little Kurdistan, grab your gun!

Come on Comrades, we’ve nearly won!