Please do not scroll down until you hear the music, "The Sun" ...it's beautiful! |
by Gary Jacobson © 2000 I’m patrolling the valley of the shadow today Out in the jungle where the Vietcong play Walking point in the land of the living dead Out in the killing zone of all hope bled. And despite all I can say and do To make it through... No matter how observant I am No matter how leather tough I am No matter how good a shot I am No matter how prayerful I am No matter if I lead or follow I can taste death’s arrow Blow-by-blow, marching to meet the foe. Nothing I do will in this war suffice No matter how religiously free of mortal vice No matter how innocently naïve I do believe... No matter whether I fight with bravery or cowardice It all comes down to a roll of the dice. Honorable men who answered their country's call Brave men who’ve fallen in blackened pall There are songs to heroes sung Fathers, brothers, sisters, sons Eulogies to good who die too young O, In war there is no justice No matter if you’re naughty or nice None of it matters so much as a bowl of rice It all comes down to a roll of the dice. Whether we’ve won medals for very good service, In war, the specter of death hovers over us all Every swinging man, no matter how short or tall There’s a good chance you’ll end up on that Wall In the latest in a series of violent wars brutish At the hands of depraved hate fiendish Fighting savagely Barberously Uncouth Cutting men down in the flower of youth. Whether you live in this sweet and sour land of spice Or whether you pay the ultimate price Your all sacrifice... It all comes down to a roll of the dice. There are men who don't like you out there... Men who want your body to draw, quarter and slice Despising detestation’s vilest venom. God can’t help you here in Vietnam War is no respecter of person So brother, just pass the ammunition Cause no matter whether death chooses you Or the man next to you Good men...and bad men...both die You wonder why them and not you Making folks cry.... Without rhyme or reason why There is no meaning... There is no reasoning... Why a brother beside you standing Should feel those lead fingers of fire and ice And not you... Who lives and who dies... All comes down to a roll of the dice.
Who in guise of right brings about things we abhor. Good God in heaven, What is it good for? Because of war are our people more just? Are world leaders at long last honoring their office? Is authority a power enforced without malice, A practice unaffected by eyes jaundiced Without hate or envying prejudiced? Are we without jealousy, Without petty hostility...? Have we a time-honored tradition Of showing for less fortunate compassion? Is brotherly love a worldwide practice? Are politicians without greedy avarice? Do we with love for one another rejoice? Is there finally poetic justice? Or is it all... Just a roll of the dice? I welcome your comments. Email me at
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