days run too nights...nights
run too days...
no ashpalt blacktop out
here...B-ball on an intel
wire post...
reel too reel
Buddy from cleveland
says it beats changing
casettes
We gamble him
batteries....but the bastards
good...got horseshoes up
his ass and out in the jungle
U use everything U got
to get back
git back

boredoms the worse
I go over my gear
gunner says Im gonna
wear out the rifling
but he slaps me
on the shoulder
hes cool dig
He knows
been in country
two sixty and up
We punch another
cold one waiting
for the co to
bring us new
orders...
we got a bet on
this...bookie
from new jersey
a little runner
got his system
got his hooch
next too the ammo
dump....but he
says he sleeps
right next too
the gas works
back home
we dont knock
it when he says
home
we been here
so long ourselves
we are thin as
bamboo
never see a fatman
a tunnel rat
we laugh
call em boyz
Mommasans
but them cornfed
huskers hustle
the fifty
and one of the
Kentucky kids
got a rice still
going...go figure

booney hat with
pin rings and inhalers
I quit smoking
after a night
watchs smokers
got taken out

trade me my smokes
for batteries
for the reel too reel
better n rvn radio
call me "Arty"
cause I draw and paint
I dont think about it
but I will live on
magic marker
smell of immortality
like fresh ink
on the newbies
uniforms
I trade em
figuring it will
give em a chance
save me sewing
something which
reminds me of
home....just
enough...

like the casings
remind me of
bacon grease
I never wear
a t shirt
and I laugh
tell em
"If its too hot
in the kitchen
for yah..U dont
know how too
cook"
being crazy
goes a long
way out
here

and everyone
knows
all your wounds
heal
if U make it

..