They went over there with their heads held high, That young and innocent Viet-Nam

G.I., They were heroes, when they got the call But brother, they were in for a fall. They boarded boats and planes to praise and cheers, The public behind them reduced their fears. They went determined to win the war, That wasn’t the public’s idea by far. While they were in that foreign land, Fonda got the public in hand. She rallied the public with her communist bent, And out the window our hero’s went. Viet-nam was strange, cold, and muddy’ The battles they fought were hard and bloody. They suffered, lived, and died in fear, But did the public or Fonda care? They came home crippled, old, and spent, And all the praise to Fonda went. She’s making millions, that movie star, Exploiting the veterans of that Viet-nam war. As the years go by the public has changed, And think of the thousands the war has maimed. They talk of veterans and their fate, But folks, I’m sorry; it’s a little too late. Black marble won’t do it, the wounds are too deep’ And to their dying days the memories they’ll keep. Of the coming home to hisses and jeers That reduced many of them to tears. If in the future you want a war, Take all the Fondas and roll them in tar. And if you send our boys off to die, When they get back praise them to the sky. And to our congress and president, If with another country we have dissent, Don’t commit another unpardonable sin, Don’t start a war you don’t want to win.

O. D. Smith

Sign up to vote on this title
UsefulNot useful