There are dead men to tuck in bed
You could go too.
You were right.
You were not as good you thought.
We are no longer evil
You were not the major
You were not the captain
You were flowers to the brigadier.
“Lieutenant, look in.”
There is time to remember, now
There is space to remember, to rappel
It is now time
There is time
To turn the clear light upon yourself, David
Walk out the jungle, David
There is no flag for you in the the Flanders Fields
Leave the river bottom
You are free to carry children on your horse back.
You love more than your soldiers.
Everyone finds their poison.
There are machine guns to dismount.
There is a dog waits you
There is a towhead child on your left, a pit on your right
There are no angels no devils.
David, Mistah Kurtz, he dead.