The Wall - Bruce Springsteen

Cigarettes and a bottle of beer, this poem that I wrote for you

This black stone and these hard tears are all I got left now of you

I remember you in your Marine uniform laughin', laughin' at your ship out party

I read Robert McNamara says he’s sorry

Your high boots and striped T-shirt, Billy you looked so bad

You and your rock-n-roll band, you were best thing this shit town ever had

Now the men who put you here eat with their families in rich dining halls

And apology and forgiveness got no place here at all at the wall

I’m sorry I missed you last year, I couldn’t find no one to drive me

If your eyes could cut through that black stone, tell me would they recognize me

For the living time it must be served, the day goes on

Cigarettes and a bottle of beer, skin on black stone

On the ground dog tags and wreaths of flowers, with ribbons red as the blood

Red as the blood you spilled in the Central Highlands mud

Limousines rush down Pennsylvania Avenue, rustling the leaves as they fall

And apology and forgiveness got no place here at all

Here at the wall