We’re pulling out the troops, no business being there. The tribal fights, been going on, forever. We’re pulling out the troops, we aren’t the world police. We have to do it, sooner, or, later. But when it’s family, whose names are on the list, when the brown-eyed boys, they call my sister ‘Mom’, when it’s the Grandpa of my niece’s baby trapped inside the war, when it’s family we pray the Psalms all night.