by Marshal Duval
You’re off again there bro,
To train for the Corps,
The last I saw of you,
Was from the closing of a Door.
Becoming one of the Few,
As you train there all day long,
As you sit there and read this,
Just be glad I’m not singing a song.
They’ll teach you how to Fight,
And even how to kill,
But your absence from home,
Is a hole that no one can fill.
When you do come home,
On that good morning day,
We will see another again,
Let’s go cruising, that sound Okay?
Until then I’ll write to you,
And remember you in my dome,
One day you’ll come back,
To good Ol’ Home Sweet Home.