Ghostlimb Shore Leave
See in the face from that over there place
on the compose with the 1,000 yard stare
die in their beds
everyday while their thinning hair grays to the memory
machine gun snare the staccato sound the days of valor and deference have come and gone
the days of blood and soil are gone
now it's time to move on
we have a charge more meaningful for all the judgment lacked we've got targets on our backs
everywhere we go including here
