Purple Haze

When the first chords are struck
I am immediately transformed back to a time
when I was young.
Back to a time when my backyard was a rice paddy.
Back to a time when the ladies in my life
said, "GI, you buy me drink."
Back to a time when cleaning my M-60
was the most important task in my life!

Back to a time I would like to forget, but cannot!
Back to a time that seems suspended in my mind!
A time that never goes away
always lurking
always ready to spring into the here and now!

What a way to live
never knowing what memory will surface.
When Desert Storm was over
and the troops had their parades
the only thing I could think of was
where was our parade?
Where were the cheering crowds?
Where were the heros?
I cried - and I cried.
That was suposed to be the way we came home!
I cried for them - I cried for me!

So proud of them - what warriors they were!
So still confused about us - about me!
I feel pride - I know what we did
I know what we survived!
I feel that it was an honor and
a privilege to serve my country.
So why was I spit on and called a baby killer?
So confused!

The smell of spent gunpowder, the smell of napalm
will never leave my senses.
I will also react when I hear a chopper overhead.
I will always jump when a vehicle backfires.
So many sights and sounds bring back the war to me.
If you were there, brother, you know what I mean!
If you weren't there - it cannot be explained!