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