Swabs, Jarheads, Flyboys and Grunts;
We call each other names and pull little stunts.
We may not come from the same Father or Mother;
But don't you try our freedom to smother.
We come from small towns and even the city;
Sometimes we're quiet, and sometimes we're witty.
From mountains and valleys, prairies and farm;
We never intend to do any harm.
We joke and we tease and pull little stunts;
But if you come our Freedom to smother, you better come to fight,
Cause then he's my brother.
They serve their country with valore and pride;
They often times feel lonesome inside;
Away from their homeland, sometimes for months;
Those Swabs, Jarheads, Flyboys and Grunts.
