(sung to the tune of Oklahoma)
Oh, Fallujah,
Where the bombs fall right before a fight.,
and the tracer's shine
can look divine
through the cross hairs of a rifle sight!

Oh, Fallujah,
Every night my rowdy crew and I
walk a street patrol
and rock and roll
while Apaches rip across the sky.

You know we could all use a break
And we'd kill for big, juicy steak!
So when we yell (Hooah!)
You'd better run like hell (Hooah!)
We're mopping up this mess
that we found in Fallujah.
Oh, Fallujah,
Damn Straight!

Oh, Fallujah,
Grabbing sleep and chow along the way.
All those IED's
and damned sand fleas
They can really fuck a person's day.

You know we could all use a break
And we'd kill for big, juicy steak!
So when we yell (Hooah!)
You'd better run like hell (Hooah!)
We're mopping up this mess
that we found in Fallujah.
Oh, Fallujah,
F-A-L-L-U-J-A-H
Oh, Falluuujah! Hooah!

Posted by: Delftsman3 at 06:46 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
Post contains 163 words, total size 1 kb.