| I see you’ve found a box of my things:
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| Infantries, tanks, and smoldering airplane wings
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| These old pictures are cool. |
| Tell me some stories
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| Was it like the old war movies?
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| Sit down, son. |
| Let me fill you in
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| Where to begin? |
| Let’s start with the end
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| This black and white photo don’t capture the skin
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| From the flash of a gun to a soldier who’s done
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| Trust me, grandson
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| The war was in color
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| From shipyard to sea, from factory to sky
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| From rivet to rifle, from boot camp to battle cry
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| I wore the mask up high on a daylight run
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| That held my face in its clammy hand
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| Crawled over coconut logs and corpses in the coral sand
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| Where to begin? |
| Let¹s start with the end
|
| This black and white photo don’t capture the skin
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| From the shock of a shell or the memory of smell
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| If red is for Hell
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| The war was in color
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| I held the canvas bag over the railing
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| The dead released, with the ship still sailing
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| Out of our hands and into the swallowing sea
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| I felt the crossfire, stitching up soldiers
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| Into a blanket of dead, and as the night grows colder
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| In a window back home, a Blue Star is traded for Gold
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| Where to begin? |
| Let’s start with the end
|
| This black and white photo don’t capture the skin
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| When metal is churned. |
| And bodies are burned
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| Victory earned
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| The war was in color
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| Now I lay in my grave at age 21
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| Long before you were born
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| Before I bore a son
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| What good did it do?
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| Well, hopefully, for you
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| A world without war
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| A life full of color
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| Where to begin? |
| Let’s start with the end
|
| This black and white photo never captured my skin
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| Once it was torn from an enemy thorn
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| Straight through the core--
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| The war was in color
|
| Where to begin? |
| Let’s start with the end
|
| This black and white photo never captured my skin
|
| From the flash of a gun to a soldier who’s done
|
| Trust me, grandson
|
| The war was in color
|
| Trust me, grandson
|
| The war was in color
|
| Trust me, grandson
|
| The war was in color |