Bright-Eyed Children with Guns

Camelot was broken that sixth day in June
And with it, the hopes and dreams of a nation
Divided by war, united in strength
When everyone had something to stand for,
Something to believe in

And the Bright-Eyed Children With Guns
Destined to grow old before their time
Their manhood halted in the realization
That nothing was the way it had seemed
And it was too late to ever turn back

For the Bright-Eyed Children With Guns
One moment a childlike dream of stardom
Idolizing Mickey Mantle and
Collecting baseball cards;
The next moment 'Over There,' where
'The Vietcong have attacked Danang-
It is a fierce and bloody battle.'
I turned off the radio and worried

For the Bright-Eyed Children With Guns
Absorbing unspeakable nightmares
To carry a lifetime's worth of pain,
The buddy the neighbor blown to bits
Destroyed by his own grenade,
A young life ended like many other
Bright-Eyed Children With Guns
Returned home to coffins or lives of torment
Shells of the boys they had once been

And Barbara laughed.
'They'll all get killed.
That's all they go there for--
To get killed. HA HA HA.'
I said nothing.
I was told his portrait hung at his funeral
Above the closed casket.
I was told
'They all look the same
In their Dress-Blues.'

For the Bright-Eyed Children With Guns
The hope of a generation, broken,
Shattered minds, lives,
and dreams
Of what might have been.