the young kids now, they don’t build model warplanes nor do they dream fight in dream rice paddies, they know it’s all useless, ordinary, just a job like sweeping the streets or picking up the garbage, they’d rather go watch a Western or hang out at the mall or go to the zoo or a football game, they’re already thinking of college and automobiles and wives and homes and barbecues, they’re already trapped in another kind of dream, another kind of war, and I guess it won’t kill them as fast, at least not physically.
