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Why am I a Marine?You can keep your Army khaki,
You can keep your Navy Blue,
I have the world's best fighting man,
To introduce to you.
His uniform is different,
The best you've ever seen.
The German's call him "Devil Dog"
His real name is "Marine".
He was born on Parris Island,
The place where God forgot.
The sand is eighteen inches deep
The sun is blazing hot.
He gets up every morning,
Before the rising sun.
He 'll run a hundred miles and more,
Before the day is done.
He's deadly with a rifle,
A bayonet made of steel.
He took the warriors calling card,
He's mastered how to kill.
And when he gets to heaven,
St. Peter he will tell,
One more Marine reporting sir,
I've served my time in Hell.
So listen all you young girls,
To what I have to say
Go find yourself a young Marine,
To love you every day.
He'll hug you and he'll kiss you,
And treat you like a queen.
There is no better fighting man:
THE UNITED STATES MARINE!
Don't Talk to MeDon't talk to me. Just leave me alone.
I was doing fine all on my own.
You ask me all about my day,
But I don't know what I'm to say.
I try turning my body around.
I face my head towards the ground,
But the conversation goes on still.
I wonder if I can fake being ill.
And as I knew all along,
My words start to come out wrong.
I feel my mind begin to trip,
And out my lips the words slip.
I wonder if my face is sinking.
I wish I knew what you were thinking.
I replay the scene over in my head.
All day I hear what I have said.
Why couldn't you just let me be?
I told you not to talk to me.
Let's Be FriendsSomething's changing inside of me.
At first it was tough for me to see.
Now I know I'm becoming something new.
Things are very different with you.
Take this outstretched hand of mine.
I promise everything will be fine.
Everything may be changing fast,
But look to the future; forget the past.
Things will be different than before.
I feel myself change down to the core.
One thing I never thought I would say:
Let's be friends, if that's okay?
Gods Judgement of a MarineThe Marine waited quietly for the judgement of his God,
Which must always come to pass,
He hoped his shoes were shining,
Just as brightly as his brass,
"Well now you DevilDog,
How shall I deal with you?,
Have you always turned the other cheek?,
To my Church have you been true?,"
The Marine squared his shoulders and said,
"No lord I guess I ain't,
Cause those of us who carry guns,
Can't always be a saint,
I've had to work most Sundays,
And at times my talk was rough,
And sometimes I've been violent,
Cause the streets are awfully tough,"
"But I never took a penny,
That wasn't mine to keep,
Though I worked alot of overtime,
When the bills just got too steep,
And I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times I shook with fear,
And sometimes God forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears,"
"I know I don't deserve a place,
Among the people here,
They never wanted me around,
Except to fight their fears,
But if You've a place for me here lord,
It needn't be so grand,
I never had nor expected to much
But I will.Fight me.
I promise not to fight back.
I promise to smile, I promise to laugh.
I promise to be nice
Even if it's a sacrifice.
I promise to be strong
Even when you treat me wrong.
Because I've learned how to deal with ignorance
Better than you've learned how to use it.
And I promise to smile, and promise to laugh.
Yes, I promise.
I won't (but I will) fight back.
MonsterTrapped here inside a cage.
Mind filled with so much rage.
Trying everything to break free.
You're just pretending to be me.
I was here all along.
You're the one that is wrong.
I'm not what you want me to be,
So you drive me to this insanity.
I savor every freedom I get.
More will come just yet.
You know I'm not one to control.
Holding me back has taken a toll.
You're afraid of what I'll do,
But the real monster here is you.
Her CatalystAs she walks through the maelstrom, the words trace upon the tips of her fingers and press into the stone. Every brick, every crack in the concrete, every crossed and angular stroke in reds and blacks and oranges. The drips of the gasoline pool around the base of her boots, slosh as she steps over the burst pipes and the rubble.
So much rubble. So little outcry. The silence of the city grates on her eardrums and the mantras she'd been forced to memorize. The Seers demanded they observe thirteen years of recitation before they attempt to weave their first World together.
But who other than the Seers can claim the incantations that knot the skeins they twist and pull on like reins hold fast? When have any of the Sisters recorded the visions they traced upon space-time and recited them, left them open for critique and discussion and debate?
Which is why she walks through the chalky soot of the smashed city around her. This all
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More