Somewhere in Vietnam, September first
Dear, Mom and Dad
We must've marched twenty miles today
Through the rain and the mud

And believe it or not
This is the first opportunity
I've had to sit down and
Write in two or three weeks

This'll have to be short
But I just wanted to send my love
And let you know that I'm doing fine

But you know, just being here
And seeing how close these people
Are to losing their freedom
Makes me that much more determined
To help win this war

'Cause if we don't, the next battlefield
May be closer to home than Vietnam
Must close for now, all my love
Your son, Bud

P.S., how's Tommy doing
At State University
Tell him his big brother said hello

State University, September first
Hi, Dad, we must have
Marched twenty blocks today
And, baby, I'm beat

I mean, like the sign
I was carrying got real heavy
But, Dad, everything was out of sight

There were recorders and
Photographers and cameraman
From every major news
Service and network in the nation
So look for your baby boy's picture
On the front page of today's paper

Of course, you might have a
Little trouble recognizing me
With my groovy beard
But, Dad, I know we're right

How can you defend my brother
Murdering all those people overseas
So what if the Communists
Do take over in South Vietnam

Why, just today
Our economics professor assured us
That people get along
Just as well under communism
As they do under
Any other form of government

I'm sorry, Dad
But this God and country bit
Just isn't my bag
Gotta go, dad, big rally tonight
Your son, Tommy

P.S., Dad better send me an
Extra fifty bucks this week, dig

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Smith
I know you must be awfully
Proud of your fine son
I wish I could be there to
See you recieve Bud's medal of honor

It may comfort you to know
That his last thoughts were of you
And as his sergeant
I can truthfully say
He was one of the bravest men
I have ever known

Dear Mom and Dad
It's been some time
Since I received word about Bud
Somehow I just didn't have
The nerve to come home

But I've done a lot of thinking since then
About my turned on friends and
About what they said about communism
We were all wrong

And you know, I always just worship Bud
Now that I've thought it over, I know
That he would never fight for something
Unless he believed in it
With all of his heart

And in spite of all my past mistakes
I hope that somehow, someday
I can become as big in your eyes
As my brother will always be
Your son, Private Tommy Smith