My eyes are gritty, my body sore. I cannot believe I’m in the Marine Corps.
I plan each day to do my best. My uniforms neat, but man I need rest.
I follow instructions and orders all day. I never talk back, although that’s my way.
Above and beyond, I am willing to go. Each day brings me closer to the day of the Show.
Our theater Iraq, the Shield becomes Storm. I shed not a tear, but the fear it is strong.
I grit my teeth, I shore my nerves. I am no coward, my stripes I earned.
I answer the call, of my country in need. I focus my strength for whatever may be.
The sand in my mouth, and even my ears, keeps me going through the worst of the fears.
I sling my weapon. Tie my boots. No one back home knows the whole truth.
How we suffer from heat and the weight of the war. How we don’t really sleep or want to eat anymore.
How we answer the call of the oppressed and in need. How we truly hate the ones that kill out of greed.
How we pray in our heads, every day for peace. To a God that seems too busy to heed.
No matter our words. No matter the day, we remain faithful, that’s just our way.
We are only human, made of flesh, blood and fears. Nothing is funny about a warriors’ tears.
Our families are safe. That is all that matters, but there are some days that we just get madder.
Hate fills our soul, leaks out of our eyes. We blame it on sand, sound a warriors’ cry.
Onward we march. Our boots tied tight, our packs heavy and hot, as day turns to night.
The letters we write that we do not send. Would break all the hearts we so long to win.
We protect and we serve, we give all that we have. To an ungrateful nation, that wishes us dead.
It is our blood that soaks foreign soil. That gives them the rights they abuse as we toil.
America the Beautiful, will never bend a knee. Because of the warriors that fall to keep her free.
The truth is told, within this rhyme. The warriors that survive are still dead inside.
There are no uninjured soldiers. The soul slowly dies. We feel it is worth it, we serve with pride.
Harsh as it seems, we smile and laugh. We love this nation, the good and the bad.
So to all of the soldiers who answered the call, to serve, and fight and even to fall,
They deserve more than a single Memorial Day. In the hearts and minds of Americans, let them never lose sway.
I plan each day to do my best. My uniforms neat, but man I need rest.
I follow instructions and orders all day. I never talk back, although that’s my way.
Above and beyond, I am willing to go. Each day brings me closer to the day of the Show.
Our theater Iraq, the Shield becomes Storm. I shed not a tear, but the fear it is strong.
I grit my teeth, I shore my nerves. I am no coward, my stripes I earned.
I answer the call, of my country in need. I focus my strength for whatever may be.
The sand in my mouth, and even my ears, keeps me going through the worst of the fears.
I sling my weapon. Tie my boots. No one back home knows the whole truth.
How we suffer from heat and the weight of the war. How we don’t really sleep or want to eat anymore.
How we answer the call of the oppressed and in need. How we truly hate the ones that kill out of greed.
How we pray in our heads, every day for peace. To a God that seems too busy to heed.
No matter our words. No matter the day, we remain faithful, that’s just our way.
We are only human, made of flesh, blood and fears. Nothing is funny about a warriors’ tears.
Our families are safe. That is all that matters, but there are some days that we just get madder.
Hate fills our soul, leaks out of our eyes. We blame it on sand, sound a warriors’ cry.
Onward we march. Our boots tied tight, our packs heavy and hot, as day turns to night.
The letters we write that we do not send. Would break all the hearts we so long to win.
We protect and we serve, we give all that we have. To an ungrateful nation, that wishes us dead.
It is our blood that soaks foreign soil. That gives them the rights they abuse as we toil.
America the Beautiful, will never bend a knee. Because of the warriors that fall to keep her free.
The truth is told, within this rhyme. The warriors that survive are still dead inside.
There are no uninjured soldiers. The soul slowly dies. We feel it is worth it, we serve with pride.
Harsh as it seems, we smile and laugh. We love this nation, the good and the bad.
So to all of the soldiers who answered the call, to serve, and fight and even to fall,
They deserve more than a single Memorial Day. In the hearts and minds of Americans, let them never lose sway.
