AHlen*, bonjour, Konnichiwa, Hola, Guten tag.. I can go on
What is it about the millitary life that seems to necessitate alchohol. Substance abuse is among the most prevalent afflictions in this the armed forces, what a stunning combination, armed and drunk. Or perhaps we are simply drunk on arms? may hap arms bearing grapes and the vine so sweet we suckle at mothers teat from day zero in army strong to the end of every day too long
perhaps it is the dramatic stricture, freedom for all and in god we trust but aint no freedom for us all, we break gods laws, we can even burn stone, the tablets of ten. We break each till every week turns around again
and every soldier drinks alone. Surrounded by a sea of faces, even in the midst of brothers of the red white and blue, each soldier drinks to bitch and moan, and solemnly we dream of home. That far away place we left behind. Traded daily for new minted ounces of pride. Oh love me tender country new. I live your service till my service is through.
Untill then tip that glass. We spend all our time alone. We go no one but our company to spend our time with, America No! Even while we love and tap that ass. Aint no one here but us yellow chickens in army green.
Us and the sins. But hey thats us. Cloistered like priests in barracks, in Constitution do we trust. Live these lives with laws our food, and the grape. Sweet little thing she is, she and the woman who rides her who we ride. Heeeeeeeeeeell, its the only thing that lifts our mood.
The force of arms, our force of grapes, The M16 and our enemies mauled. We live hoping for sunlight for any light to break through these clouds in which we serve loveingly, Sustained only by the loving alchohol.
perhaps it is the dramatic stricture, freedom for all and in god we trust but aint no freedom for us all, we break gods laws, we can even burn stone, the tablets of ten. We break each till every week turns around again
and every soldier drinks alone. Surrounded by a sea of faces, even in the midst of brothers of the red white and blue, each soldier drinks to bitch and moan, and solemnly we dream of home. That far away place we left behind. Traded daily for new minted ounces of pride. Oh love me tender country new. I live your service till my service is through.
Untill then tip that glass. We spend all our time alone. We go no one but our company to spend our time with, America No! Even while we love and tap that ass. Aint no one here but us yellow chickens in army green.
Us and the sins. But hey thats us. Cloistered like priests in barracks, in Constitution do we trust. Live these lives with laws our food, and the grape. Sweet little thing she is, she and the woman who rides her who we ride. Heeeeeeeeeeell, its the only thing that lifts our mood.
The force of arms, our force of grapes, The M16 and our enemies mauled. We live hoping for sunlight for any light to break through these clouds in which we serve loveingly, Sustained only by the loving alchohol.