boots slipping on the feet

screw blisters and reg
smoke another in the dust
lost my watch to "wait a minute vines"
time dont mean nothing
when death is on the mind

fear

if you didnt have fear you were naked
no flak vest
no comfort
no nothing
just something to hump
out when the music started

dog tags taped together
cigarettes
fuck you watched them to keep
dry and the clips free of dirt
no clip no voice
no help

back to K-bar and hand to hand
only those SK-47s could
make a damn stupid day
get damn worse

Quang Tri province
the heat leeching out water
sweat was just the poor mans
shower we laughed at that

and on smoke breaks burnt
off the leechs full of our blood
laughing that the Vietcon
recycled this after they swept
when we were gone

my feet turning white and my
face turning black from
camo paint sunburn and
my arms wretched with
jungle rot

we were dying of waterlogged
or heatstroke
and in between the odd bullet
claymore or mine

you had to have a sense of
humour or you went mad

and always the mortars falling
and stench of the jungle
death rot and uncertianty

God I wished for home
for its misery and broad emptiness
for furrowed feilds and ditchs
not full of suprises
for skies not full of b-52s on
hero runs and "thuds" making
the wrong drops

make a buddy lose a buddy
hop a bird that was the hope
but dont hope too hard
that was hard rock luck

and the slicks kicking up
razor grass and dust
man sucking in that
exhaust and getting our
asses out was pure
gold

and when the sun starts down
now in the evening
i comb my silver hair
and look through the lines
like shadows

i can still feild dress an AR fifteen
I can still wake up screaming

I miss my freinds over there
the ones who stayed
behind so we can have freedom
still