*singing softly*Where to begin, let's start with the end.
This black and white photo don't capture the skin, from the flash of a gun to a soldier who's done.Trust me grandson, the war was in color.From shipyard to sea, from factory to sky, from rivet to rifle, from boot camp to battle cry.I wore the mask up high on a daylight run, that held my face in its clammy hand.Crawled over coconut logs, and corpses in the coral sand.
Where to begin, lets start with the end. This black and white photo don't capture the skin, from a flash of a gun to a soldier whos done. Trust me grandson, the war was in color.*singing*
I held the canvas bag over the railing, the dead released, with the ship still sailing.Out of our hands and into the swallowing sea, I felt the crossfire stitching up soldiers.Into a blanket of dead, and as the night grows colder.In a window back home, a blue star is traded for Gold.*sings softly*
The volcanoes at my place are acting up again... *stands up* You really shouldn't play with matches. *limps to Arizona* Please just say hi and I'll leave you alone you really shouldn't be rude.
((link If you were here yesterday you will laugh til ya pee!))