There Is No Harm In A Man's

When You're Wounded And Left On Afghanistan's Plains, And The Women Come Out To Cut Up What Remains, Jest Roll To Your Rifle And Blow Out Your Brains And Go To Your Gawd Like A Soldier.

Ah! What Avails The Classic Bent And What The Cultured Word, Against The Undoctored Incident That Actually Occurred? And What Is Art Whereto We Press Through Paint And Prose And Rhyme- When Nature In Her Nakedness Defeats Us Every Time?

And The Talk Slid North, And The Talk Slid South With The Sliding Puffs From The Hookah-mouth; Four Things Greater Than All Things Are Women And Horses And Power And War.

There Is Sorrow Enough In The Natural Way From Men And Woman To Fill Our Day; But When We Are Certain Of Sorrow In Store, Why Do We Always Arrange For More? Brothers & Sisters, I Bid You Beware Of Giving Your Heart To A Dog To Tear.

Lord God Of Hosts, Be With Us Yet, Lest We Forget--lest We Forget!