that man’s neck.
His dad was a rich man, who pulled lots of strings
So well connected he could do many things.
I live in this hellhole with all sorts of men;
I’m sure glad most like me and call me their friend.
The food here is so awful, I’ve lost many pounds
I’d rather feast on the vittles the guards toss the hounds.
At night we play cards and you don’t dare cheat
For if you get caught, you’ll be stomped on by feet.
Most inmates fashion some sort of knife
To help out their odds in a fight for their life
I took me a padlock and snapped it on a chain
Then hid it in my pant-leg to keep from being slain.
I get to see you on our family day
The worst part about it, is when you cry as you play.
Many times you question, “Dad, when can you leave?”
As the tears from your eyes drop to my sleeve.
Our visit is now over as they wheel you away
I whisper, “I love you” and you see what I say.
It’s time to go back to my one-room, shared cell
And try to write a song about a sad dad in jail.
SOLDIER IN THE RAIN
I’m just a soldier who stands in the rain
My memories of home are what keep me sane.
Back home is a land of milk and honey
Ruled by lust and love of money.
But, what can I say, when I serve her true
For I volunteered to see this war through.
Now, that I’m here, it’s hard to believe
We’re just the victims of those who deceive.
As darkness falls on the rice fields of Nam
Scared men with rifles walk the shadows of the calm.
It’s thousands of miles to the steps of my church
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