I see you've found a box of my things -

Infantries, tanks and smoldering airplane wings.

These old pictures are cool. Tell me some stories

Was it like the old war movies?

Sit down son. Let me fill you in



Where to begin? Let's start with the end

This black and white photo don't capture the skin

From the flash of a gun to a soldier who's done

Trust me grandson

The war was in color



From shipyard to sea, From factory to sky

From rivet to rifle, from boot camp to battle cry

I wore the mask up high on a daylight run

That held my face in its clammy hand

Crawled over coconut logs and corpses in the coral sand



Where to begin? Let¹s start with the end

This black and white photo don't capture the skin

From the shock of a shell or the memory of smell

If red is for Hell

The war was in color



I held the canvas bag over the railing

The dead released, with the ship still sailing,

Out of our hands and into the swallowing sea

I felt the crossfire stitching up soldiers

Into a blanket of dead, and as the night grows colder

In a window back home, a Blue Star is traded for Gold.



Where to begin? Let's start with the end

This black and white photo don't capture the skin

When metal is churned. And bodies are burned

Victory earned

The War was in color



Now I lay in my grave at age 21

Long before you were born

Before I bore a son

What good did it do?

Well hopefully for you

A world without war

A life full of color



Where to begin? Let's start with the end

This black and white photo never captured my skin

Once it was torn from an enemy thorn

Straight through the core

The war was in color