A day we will all remember,
A day which tested the American Pride,
A Marine You Stand
Ambition awaiting inside of your soul,
"You've a long road ahead, my friend, and It's very cold"
Just a little toy soldier, forced to fight, told to kill, cold at nights. You eat so little, you've been on the run.
The men march asleep. Many have lost their boots
But limp on, blood-shod. All men lame; all men blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
This is no case of petty right or wrong
That politicians or philosophers
Can judge.
Mr. President
I'm writing you a letter
that perhaps you will read
If you have the time.
I've just received
my call-up papers
to leave for the front
Before Wednesday night.
Mr. President
I do not want to go
I am not on this earth
to kill wretched people.
If blood must be given
go give your own
you are a good apostle
Mr. President.
If you go after me
warn your police
that I'll be unarmed
and that they can shoot.
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