The Rock in the Hard Place

The hard kid's pissed off.
He wants to know why
All the No-Wars don't care
That he has to die.

"I'm fighting for freedom.
I'm fighting for them.
What's with all these pussies?
What about all our men?

"While we take the bullets
From rag-heads and shieks,
These losers sit safe;
Just where are these freaks?"

He can't understand
Why these peaceniks won't come,
Why they just shake their heads
And act like he's dumb.

When he talks about "freedom,"
They tell him "oil money."
When he says, "democracy,"
They say, "Ain't that funny."

And this crap they all talk
about banking his sign-up?
He bought a new ride;
Those jerk-offs can line up

And kiss him right here
Where the sun never shines.
They're traitors, all yearning
For un-American times.

They tell him they're tired
Of gagging like lushes
on Nixon's bad booze:
Cheney, Reagan, the Bushes.

They say, time the people
Who helped make the mash,
Start cleaning the stills out,
Without taking the cash.

They drag up old history
And all of that bother:
"The equivalent of " -- what? --
"Our Founding Fathers."

The British, the Shah,
Who got out and who got in,
The Iran-Iraq war;
Kid's head starts to spin.

His strong point was sports,
Anything with a ball,
Like he's got two of now,
And they've got fuck-all.

They beg him, "Don't go,"
They warned him invasion
Would catch him resentment,
Confusion, contagion.

They warn him his money
Is to buy him new legs,
'Cuz the government won't,
When he's shipped back like eggs,

Smooth on his knees, where
IED's took his shins;
That bonus-with-interest
Meant to build him new pins.

But a man has to do
When a man has no choice.
Third rotation, or sixth,
One more silenced voice.

Too many rotations
Will end like they said,
Blown up in the desert,
Shipped back maimed or dead.

No babies for him,
No grandkids for mama,
His gene-bags stop here,
Instead of Obama.

While all those smart-asses
Who knew "freedom" ain't "oil,"
Will have kids and grandkids,
Their futures unspoiled.

God gave us a brain,
To use when we need.
If you'll fight without thinking,
You won't get to breed.

The thinkers and artists,
The ones who can read,
The ones who know history,
Knew where it would lead.

The old Vietnam question,
Not a moment more tame:
The rich gave their war --
And ain't nobody came.