This is My Rifle

Mark Maysey

Back in 69, I didn't have a care

Before they called my number, I chopped of all my hair

Said goodbye to mamma, dad and uncle Dan

Boarded an airplane and headed off for Nam

He called us to attention as we stepped off the plane

Checked us off a list as he called out our names

Then he picked up his rifle and raised it in the air

Grabbed his crotch with his other hand as we all stood and stared

He said...

 [bad word] 

This is my rifle

This is my gun

One is for killing

The others for fun

So until this war is over

Or until your time is done

This is your rifle and this one is your gun

Thirty years have passed since I stepped off that plane

The nightmares haven't ended and neither has the pain

I've drank my share of liquor and smoked my share of grass

But I can't unload the memories or these few words from my past

Repeat [bad word] 

Well, a dear friend of mine finally called it quits

They found him one cold morning laying in a ditch

bullet through his brain, his rifle at his side

And one [bad word] dog tag from 1969

When they turned his body over they found his written note

It wasn't but a few lines, but the last he ever wrote

And when they laid him in his grave on that cold December day

I took those words he'd written and I began to play

Repeat [bad word] 

Back in 69, I didn't have a care

Before they called my number, I chopped off all my hair.