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The Grave

The grave that they dug him had flowers

Gathered from the hillsides in bright summer colors

And the brown earth bleached white

At the edge of his gravestone, he's goneWhen the wars of our nation did beckon

A man barely twenty did answer the calling

Proud of the trust that he placed in our nation, he's gone

But eternity knows him and it knows what we've doneAnd the rain fell like pearls on the leaves of the flowers

Leaving brown, muddy clay where the earth had been dry

And deep in the trench he waited for hours

As he held to his rifle and prayed not to dieBut the silence of night was shattered by fire

As guns and grenades blasted sharp through the air

One after another his comrades were slaughtered

In morgue of marines, alone standing thereHe crouched ever lower, ever lower with fear

They can't let me die, they can't let me die here

I'll cover myself with the mud and the earth

And I'll cover myself, I know I'm not braveThis earth

This earth

This earth

Is my graveThe grave that they dug him had flowers

Gathered from the hillsides in bright summer colors

And the brown earth bleached white

At the edge of his gravestone, he's gone

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