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We're
the battling Marines of Vietnam,
The
place where no one gives a damn
Not
even our own Uncle Sam.
We're
fighting a war that's useless and dumb,
Still
more and more men seem to come.
With
thirteen months of sweat and combat,
We
all hope we'll make it back.
Back
to safety, beer and fun,
But
only to wait for the next battle to come.
Then
"Incoming!" is called,
And
we jump in our holes,
And
where the next round falls nobody knows,
We
stay in our holes, some shallow, some deep,
Some
trying to pray and some trying to sleep.
The
rounds keep coming through the day and night,
Falling
around us left and right.
The morning
sun begins to shine,
We
all know it's again that time.
To
go on patrols all day long,
Searching
and destroying the Viet Cong.
Now
this little country's full of hell and hate,
It's
called
VIETNAM
1968.
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