|
~ 1 ~
I could whine about our poverty,
I could let it run my life;
I could whine about depravity
And lots of other strife.
~ 2 ~
I could whine about the wild fire
That burnt our house to dust;
Or the floods that swept our life away
And our accident is a must.
~ 3 ~
I could rant and rave forever
About all that has gone wrong,
And even blame the Government
In a moaning, wailing song...
~ 4
But I guess no one would pay me
If I chose these things to do.
So I think I'll become a soldier
And wait there in the queue.
~ 5 ~
Because their whinging lasts forever,
Be it crap or be it true,
And some are very clever,
The way they use their rue.
~ 6 ~
To con their way with sympathy
Into the hearts of those who care,
Who are willing to believe the lie
That they are needed to be there,
~ 7 ~
To be used as a punching ball
Or a target for abuse.
They do not have the right at all
To use PTSD as their excuse.
~ 8 ~
So listen up you veterans,
All this trouble that you make
Did not come from Vietnam,
Of that make no mistake.
~ 9 ~
You are just the same self ravers
That you were before you went.
There's no excuse for such behaviours
When to hurt someone is meant.
~ 10 ~
You give the troubled veteran
A name he does not need.
For most of us, I tell you,
Are a proud and noble breed
~ 11 ~
And yes we all do suffer,
Who were in the battle fray,
And we will carry it forever
As we still carry it today.
~ 12 ~
But we still have many choices
To admire or regret
And can still use our voices
With a tone that folk respect.
~ 13 ~
We can think about our brothers
And about our sisters too;
And love to death our Mothers
And our wives so good and true.
~ 14 ~
But if you want to be a moron
Then a moron you can be;
But don't blame your indigestion
On the likes of her and me.
~ 15 ~
Just try to think of others
And forget your bloody selves.
For no man can recover
When in himself he dwells.
~ 16 ~
Some got lucky and were wasted
And died as soldiers do.
Now it's up to us to show them
That our lives are not wasted too.
|