Green is what I see when I close my eyes, drifting out of here.
The colour of the forests and the uniforms and the bottles of bear.
Flying in low above the cedar trees through the soaking air.
Our voices raised high against (above?) the rotor blades and the beating
of fear;
So long ago.
Green is what I was the last time I saw my family.
I was hungy then for anything and everything
the world could throw at me.
Then we were sweeping over lands
that I never knew were there.
With half a pound of dope and cigarettes.
For the soldiers on either side
of the burning bridge.
They shipped us out but I never went home
driving timber on these mountain roads
You skip a beat and seven years goes by.
Tonight again I'll dream I'm walking across the room in the moonlight
I'll throw the windows open wide,
smell the falling dew outside,
I'll climb out upon the room
close my eyes and I'll begin to fly.