The dry dust crackles
under the tires of the Jeep
carrying those whose lives
they were able to keep
They file out across town
to their family's wrekage they roam.
And they'll never love again.
The soilders came home.
Their lovers have left them,
so now they wander the streets
spending all their massacre money
on self destructive treats
like crack and booze
now they all lose
there is nothing left of the life they'd known
The soilders came home.
So now they're dead in ditches
discharged to that place below
with all the killers and snitches
that's were their souls go
and now for all eternity
they'll hear the dammed moan.
Now this is what happens, when
The soilders come home.
Thunderstorm Lullaby
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-soilders-came-home/
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