Dropkick Murphys

Now hear me all you victims
Come listen, gather around
For now we'll tell the story of four brothers in the ground
One died from the bottle though he wouldn't harm a fly
He froze in the south end alley
Behind a gin mill left to die
And another died by the bullet at the hand's of a sniper's gun
In the valley of the Nha-Trang for a war we never won
Whiskey, War, Suicide & Guns [x2]
The next one took his life
They said there was never any hope
He was shocked and institutionalized
Found hanging from a rope
And another son was shot again
But this time over drugs
There'll be no heroes welcome
For this small time city thug