Year Two, Week Forty-Eight: “Third of July”

 

Lyrics:

I was seventeen years old
when the planes hit the towers
I used my old fake ID
and within the hour
I was an army man, infantry
boy I was lucky
to get stationed near home
in Fort Campbell, Kentucky
We’re gonna track down Osama
and we’ll watch him die
And I’ll be back for the third of July

Hooah, hooah, hooah, hooah

The weeks turned into months
and the months turned into years
Kabul and Kandahar
bullets and tears
Now I’m back in the states
but work’s hard to find
They say “Thanks for your service
We’ll call you sometime”
I’m dreaming about you
and the blueberry pie
that you cook on the third of July

Hooah, hooah, hooah, hooah

I don’t want no fireworks
Don’t want a parade
I just want a cold beer
and to lie in the shade
Don’t ask me to talk about
what I have done
We died in a war
that could never be won

Lost my arm at the elbow
And I scream when I sleep
My life’s like an ocean
so dark and so deep
The VA, they told me
“We’ll patch up your arm
but your nightmares are just pictures
they can’t do you no harm”
Tried praying to god
but I don’t know why
he can’t make it the third of July

Hooah, hooah, hooah, hooah
Hooah, hooah, hooah, hooah

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