he Grid-Square Ghost

(Slow, rhythmic foot-stomps and hand-claps: Thud-Clap... Thud-Clap...)

(A low, distorted guitar riff humming like a generator)

(Group Vocals - Low and Shouted)

In the shadow of the triple-canopy floor

You don’t keep a tally, you don’t keep a score

When the orders come down in a plain brown sleeve

There ain’t no mercy and there ain’t no leave!

Yeah, the jungle’s got a belly full of quiet and lead

And the black-ops man is walking with the dead!

(Clapping stops - isolated vocal over a low bass thrum)

I got a blackened XM and a starlight scope

Traded in my conscience for a nylon rope.

The Major didn't give me a name or a town

Just a grid-square map where the sun goes down.

"Cross the fence," he said, "to the Lao-side line,

Make sure nobody’s breathing by the breakfast time."

I’m sitting in the ferns with a mouthful of bile

Watching a target through a cold glass dial.

(Stomps and Claps kick back in)

In the shadow of the triple-canopy floor

You don’t keep a tally, you don’t keep a score

When the orders come down in a plain brown sleeve

There ain’t no mercy and there ain’t no leave!

Yeah, the jungle’s got a belly full of quiet and lead

And the black-ops man is walking with the dead!

(Music drops out - isolated vocals)

The target wasn't wearing a khaki suit

Just a girl in the mud with a basket of fruit.

But the radio crackled, "Take the shot, Seven-Nine,

Everything moving is a part of the design."

I pulled back the hammer, felt the cold steel click

The air in the valley was getting real thick.

One squeeze of the trigger, one flash in the moss

Just another ghost for the SOG to toss.

It wasn't for the flag and it wasn't for the right

It was just a dirty job in the middle of the night.

(Full group vocals and aggressive clapping)

In the shadow of the triple-canopy floor

You don’t keep a tally, you don’t keep a score

When the orders come down in a plain brown sleeve

There ain’t no mercy and there ain’t no leave!

Yeah, the jungle’s got a belly full of quiet and lead

And the black-ops man is walking with the dead!

(Fast, haunting slide guitar solo)

(Rhythmic whispering: "Denied... Disavowed... Denied... Disavowed...")

(Music stops - vocal is low and shaky)

I burned the tiger-stripes and I buried the gun

But you can't outrun the things that you’ve done.

I’m back in the States in a town full of light

But I still see that girl in the middle of the night.

The brass in D.C. says I was never even there

Just a ghost in the humid, Southeast air.

But the weight in my chest is a ten-pound plate

For every soul I pushed through the charcoal gate.

(Final explosive chorus - maximum reverb)

In the shadow of the triple-canopy floor

You don’t keep a tally, you don’t keep a score

When the orders come down in a plain brown sleeve

There ain’t no mercy and there ain’t no leave!

Yeah, the jungle’s got a belly full of quiet and lead

And the black-ops man is walking with the dead!

(Clapping slow