Red

On a late Tuesday afternoon
The sun shone grey in the Massachusetts sky
Red walked into his living room
Found his mother with a tear in her eye
Times have changed, or so it seemed
Boys became men at the age of seventeen
Red was one of those, oh you know
What choice did they have other than to go?
So they went one by one
They found no comfort from that Vietnam sun
They wiped the sweat and blood from their face
And all they wondered when to find their saving grace
Each and every day you know they watched their brothers fall
They drink heavy at night and try to forget it all
Didn’t know if they would rather be alive or dead?
Oh this is the story of a man named Red
Telling tales of darkness
No legless man is harmless
Heartlessly described by a gun
Oh I can smell the gunpowder
The quiet cries getting louder
All this pain echoes in his head
This is the story of a man named Red
He walks the streets alone now
He can’t quite understand how
He was the one to make it home
He came out just as he went in
Oh no, no, no if you could only see within
He lies awake and looks at his wife
Motionless and helpless
She has never felt this so but she knows what it’s like
Living with these emotions each and every day
He still hears the orders calling calling, «Fire away!»
Yeah, yeah, no.
Taken by the government yeah, no
One by one they went
But they didnt come back
Well I’m telling tales of darkness
No legless man is harmless
Heartlessly described by a gun
Oh I can smell the gunpowder
The quiet cries getting louder
All this pain echoes in his head
This is the story of a man named Red
The story of a man named Red
Well they couldn’t have resisted
I guess the government insisted, yea
That their new best friends, oh that their new friends
Should die in their arms, die in their arms, yea
Oh no