| My father met Eleanor Roosevelt
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| In nineteen forty-five
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| The war was finally over then
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| And they were still alive
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| Her husband was the president
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| 'Til he ran out of time
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| Her Franklin D. was history
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| And they put him on the dime
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| My father joined the leathernecks
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| To stay out of the mine
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| The new marine was just sixteen
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| In nineteen thirty-nine
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| There were medals and malaria
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| The South Pacific War
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| Through jungles that were paradise
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| And were paradise no more
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| Soldiers fight and soldiers die
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| Soldiers live to wonder why
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| Semper fi, fe-fo-fum
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| Look out peacetime, here we come
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| Some of the men who did survive
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| Were not the lucky ones
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| War is only good for those
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| Who make and sell the guns
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| My father lay recovering
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| The hurt was all inside
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| Sometimes the wounds that never heal
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| Are the easiest to hide
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| When Eleanor came bearing gifts
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| To San Francisco Bay
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| She gave my dad a blanket
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| In the hospital that day
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| That blanket meant a lot to him
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| My mother has it still
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| Some forget the kindnesses
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| That others never will
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| Soldiers fight and soldiers die
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| Soldiers live to wonder why
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| Semper fi, fe-fo-fum
|
| Look out peacetime, here we come |