Topic: haven't decided on a name yet give me your suggestions f you like it
wrote this other day after chatting with an old Viet Nam vet i know. he was the mold but there are several different vets i know rolled up in this song , The one line that got this song started was my friend told me that he wasn't any better than another than anyone else i replied to him he was as good or better than any i knew. well i wrote that down and few days later this it what it turned into
as a side note the line about the bullet to the ear really happen in the jungles of southeast Asia i didn't want that confused with something that you may have seen on tv a couple of years ago
G C G
let me tell you a story about an old man was a friend of mine
he was humble but proud and a soldier back in his prime
he said he was no better than any other man
G D C G
i said that may be so but you are as good as any i know
and why are you still working the family all want you back home
shaking his head he said this is the life that i own
i could retire and go back to them Georgia hills
but i work and i slave it's what keeps me out of the grave
chorus
Am C G
he, would say play me your song about going back home
that's my kind of music when I'm drinking alone
Em C
i pick up my guitar and i start to play
he get this look some off far away
C D C G
ive never been there but i know that's the thousand yard stare
verse 2
so he stays on the road and keeps working cuz that's all that he knows
maybe down in the swamps of the south or up north in the snow
but he never complains about the aches and the pains in his bones
because they don't compare to the ones he left back at home
now he sits with a bottle in a motel room ate at night
and waits for a call from the one who is the light of his life
some nights he drifts off to sleep with that drink in his hand
its nights like this when he goes back to Viet Nam
chorus
verse 3
from different times and we travelled different roads
but we are more alike than most that i know
he claimed poor marksmanship was the reason he was still here
and points to crease that a bullet left in his ear
he would pour me a drink in return i would play him a song
we would tell stories and lies up until dawn
i said its getting late this should probably be my last one
but last call don't come till the bottle is empty and done
chorus