War
Blood soaked boots and napalm skies
Tear gas thrown but your tears are dry
A body lays there with open eyes
As it lets life go without a sigh
The taste of steel, the grit of sand
A steady rifle in a shaky hand
Step over the ghost of a man you once knew
Another casualty from a once solid crew
The ground is black, the air is cold
They’re barking orders—do what you’re told
Because you’re a grunt, your life has been sold
As you live to tell the tale at 18 years old
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