GOODNIGHT SAIGON
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We met as soul mates on paris Island. We left as inmates from an asylum.
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And we were sharp, as sharp as knives. And we were so gung ho to lay
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down our lives. We came in spastic like tameless horses, we left in plastic
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as numbered corpses. And we learned fast to travel light, our arms were
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heavy but our bellies were tight.
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We had no homefront, we had no soft soap. They send up Playboy, they
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gave us Bob Hope. We dug in deep, and shot on sight, and prayed to jesus
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christ with all of our might. We had no camras to shoot the landscape. We
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passed the hashpipe and played our doors tapes. And it was dark, so dark
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at night. And we held on to each other like brother to brother. We promised
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our mothers we'd write.
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