"You'll die an old and lonely man",
My lady friend said to me.
"But that's impossible", I replied,
"For I'm already dead, you see".

"What you see, standing here,
Is just an empty shell.
So there's no place for me to go,
For years I've been in hell."

There's been no love, no tender arms,
To hold me through the night.
And when I died, no one came,
To lead me to the light.

I wander here, on this cold earth,
With no where else to go,
I'm just passing through the years,
But why, I'll never know.

I'm stuck in Viet Nam, you see,
I can't wash away the mud.
I can't sneeze away the cordite,
I can't spit away the blood.

I can't shut my ears to gunfire,
I can't block out all the screams,
I can't walk around the landmines,
I can't block out all the dreams.

I can't not see their faces,
As another buddy dies,
I can't not feel the mother's pain,
As she sits and rocks and cries.

So maybe I'm not so empty,
As I may think I am.
For I'm still filled with emotions,
Left over from Viet Nam.

So though I'm dead, my body lives,
'Guess it was meant to be.
But when that goes, take me back,
And tie me to a tree.

Place a claymore in my lap,
Then string a tripwire tight.
Then go ahead and trip it,
'Cause there's no one left to fight.

Then tell my friends, I died in 'Nam,
While still young and strong and tan,
So they won't know, I died alone,
A old and lonely man.

- Marv Hardin
February 1, 2000

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