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Bury Me With Sailors
"I've played a lot of roles in life; I've met a lot of men. I've done some things I'd like to think I wouldn't do again.
And though I'm young, I'm old enough to know some day I'll die, and to think about what lies beyond, Beside whom I would lie.
Perhaps it doesn't matter much; Still if I had my choice, I'd want a grave amongst sailors when at last death quells my voice.
I'm sick of the hypocrisy of lectures of the wise. I'll take the man, with all the flaws, Who goes through scared, and dies.
The troops I knew were commonplace They didn't want the war; They fought because their Fathers and Their Fathers had before.
They Cursed and killed and wept... God Knows They're easy to deride... But bury me with men like these; They faced the guns and died, Its funny when you think of it, The way we got along.
We'd come from different worlds To live in one were no one belongs. I didn't even like them all; I'm sure they'd all agree. Yet I would give my life for them, I know some did for me.
So bury me with Sailors, please, Though much maligned they be. Yes bury me with Sailors, for I miss their company.
We'll not soon see their likes again; We've had our fill of war. But bury me with men like them Till someone else does more."
This story was contributed by: Al Lambinus