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Well, you wonder why I always dress in black,
Why you never see bright colors on my back, And why does my appearance seem to have a somber tone. Well, there's a reason for the things that I have on. I wear the black for the poor and the beaten down, Livin' in the hopeless, hungry side of town, I wear it for the prisoner who has long paid for his crime, But is there because he's a victim of the times. I wear the black for those who never read, Or listened to the words that Jesus said, About the road to happiness through love and charity, Why, you'd think He's talking straight to you and me. Well, we're doin' mighty fine, I do suppose, In our streak of lightnin' cars and fancy clothes, But just so we're reminded of the ones who are held back, Up front there ought 'a be a Man In Black. I wear it for the sick and lonely old, For the reckless ones whose bad trip left them cold, I wear the black in mournin' for the lives that could have been, Each week we lose a hundred fine young men. And, I wear it for the thousands who have died, Believen' that the Lord was on their side, I wear it for another hundred thousand who have died, Believen' that we all were on their side. Well, there's things that never will be right I know, And things need changin' everywhere you go, But 'til we start to make a move to make a few things right, You'll never see me wear a suit of white. Ah, I'd love to wear a rainbow every day, And tell the world that everything's OK, But I'll try to carry off a little darkness on my back, 'Till things are brighter, I'm the Man In Black. |
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One mornin' at breakfast, I said to my wife,
We been everywhere once and some places twice, As I had another helping of country ham, She said "We ain't never been to Vietnam, "And there's a bunch of our boys over there." So we went to the Orient: Saigon. Well we got a big welcome when we drove in, Through the gates of a place that they call Long Vinh. We checked in and everything got kinda quiet, But a soldier boy said: "Just wait 'til tonight, "Things get noisy. Things start happenin'. "Big bad firecrackers." Well that night we did about four shows for the boys, And they were livin' it up with a whole lot of noise. We did our last song for the night, And we crawled into bed for some peace and quiet, But things weren't peaceful. And things weren't quiet. Things were scary. Well for a few minutes June never said one word, And I thought at first that she hadn't heard. Then a shell exploded not two miles away, She sat up in bed and I heard her say: "What was that?" I said: "That was a shell, or a bomb." She said: "I'm scared." I said "Me too." Well all night long that noise kept on, And the sound would chill you right to the bone. The bullets and the bombs, and the mortar shells, Shook our bed every time one fell, And it never let up; it was gonna get worse, Before it got any better. Well when the sun came up, the noise died down, We got a few minutes sleep, an' we were sleepin' sound, When a soldier knocked on our door and said: "Last night they brought in seven dead, and 14 wounded." And would we come down to the base hospital, and see the boys. "Yes!" So we went to the hospital ward by day, And every night we were singin' away. Then the shells and the bombs was goin' again. And the helicopters brought in the wounded men. Night after night; day after day. Comin' and a goin'. So we sadly sang for them our last song, And reluctantly we said: "So long." We did our best to let 'em know that we care, For every last one of 'em that's over there. Whether we belong over there or not. Somebody over here love's 'em, and needs 'em Well now that's about all that there is to tell, About that little trip into livin' hell. And if I ever go back over there any more, I hope there's none of our boys there for me to sing for; I hope that war is over with, And they all come back home, To stay. In peace. |
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