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He was shoot up bad In Iraq.The fourth time in thirteen years of fieghting these wars.Some people knew about and other no one ever knew we were there.For a goverment he questaned more with each passing year.
He was tacking a Gray Hound (bus) back from home.After resting up befor he went back.Though the fire in his hart and eyes never flickerd or dimed.He knew the best of his good years were gone.
He got on the phone.he said to her I am thienking a lot about retiering.But the warier and army life is all I know.I do not know what to do with the rest.But I am just to burned out to go on.
So he told her scater my ashes over the road then let the strong wind blow.When I can't walk away it's my time to go.
He said girl my road map to heaven has lead me far out of the way.Through burned out rubel tha once were home and towns.To my drunken nieghts trieing to forget.They take me to a early grave.
But befor he hung up the phone.He said be for you put dirt on these bones. Tell me one thing.What do you do with broken and baterd warier that has spent his whole life in the combat zone.
he told her again scater my ashes iver the road then let that strong wind blow.When I can't walk away it's my time to go.Now I must go.
