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Down the line orders passed, along with soldiers lives have tasked.

Fifteen months will be the time, country grateful that I signed that line.

Now to do my duty serve, once in a foreign land it hit a nerve.

Away from home I do sweep, keeping sandbags clean and neat.



Sweeping sand bags in a sand storm, from loved ones torn.

Sitting around a pit laughing, as hearts over seas are crashing.

Sweeping sand bags in a sand storm, hardened soldiers they must form.

Smoke puddles from the troops, as doom for families swoops.

Sweeping sand bags in a sand storm, tossed into a 60 man dorm.



Day to day I wait to see, that one whose heart belongs to me.

Over and over I do dream, going back home with my team.

I sit in the desert as I wait, as loved ones and friends are sealed in fate.

Broken boots and a wounded heart, with worry my own will be burdened to cart.



Sweeping sand bags in a sand storm, wishing to be by my love as a norm.

Sitting around a pit laughing, as hearts over seas are crashing.

Sweeping sand bags in a sand storm, hardened soldiers they must form.

Smoke puddles from troops, as doom for family swoops.

Sweeping sand bags in a sand storm, tossed into a 60 man dorm.



Useless to my spouse I do feel, over seas with all these feeling I deal.

My love keeps crying, over our friend that’s dying.

Wondrous words and pats on backs, never will help all the stress from a ruck sack.

Our once dear friend is now gone, Taps will now and always be the man’s song.



Sweeping sand bags in a sand storm, wishing to be by my love as a norm.

Sitting around a pit laughing, as hearts over seas are crashing.

Sweeping sand bags in a sand storm, hardened soldiers they must form.

Smoke puddles from troops, as doom for family swoops.

Sweeping sand bags in a sand storm, tossed into a 60 man dorm.



15 months is way to long for me, I just wish that others could see.

If you choose this life for you, make sure that every choice you make to your heart is true.

Simply sitting in this dessert waste land, many battles you might not be able to understand.

As I sweep one last bag from sand and dew, other soldiers will come to continue…



Sweeping sand bags in a sand storm, wishing to be by our loved ones as a norm.

Sitting around a pit laughing, as hearts over seas are crashing.

Sweeping sand bags in a sand storm, hardened soldiers they must form.

Smoke puddles from troops, as doom for family swoops.

Sweeping sand bags in a sand storm, tossed into a 60 man dorm.







(In loving memory of G!)