I must get closer to the bone, cut deep, not stay my hand,

So you can understand the anguish, of the soldier in the sand.

 It was my choice, my heart’s desire, so please don’t get me wrong.

When I heard the call to arms, I gladly went along.

Yet I want to blame the ones who sent me and made me feel like damaged goods.

I want them to feel the horror of the soldier in the woods.

I fought my war for freedom, to keep the home fire safe.

I came back from Vietnam, to find I had no place.

I want America to know, combat did not break my will.

In the end, it was the sadness of the soldier on the hill.

When a nation sends its best to war, to show the power it can wield,

I want all to know the price that’s paid by the soldier in the field.

A soldier’s family knows too well, the grief that has been sewn.

They stand beside, but cannot touch, their soldier home alone.

When you raise the call to war, no matter what the reasons,

In the end, you break the heart, of the soldier for all seasons.

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