I got a letter from the government
A week back, Tuesday morning
It came in a grey envelope
It was stamped with a red warning

The envelope was tattered
And the words were inked in red
To be opened by recipient
That was all it said

I checked the name typed on there
It was mine, so I could see
John Augustus Reed
Beale Street, Unit 43

I opened it and sat right down
I had been drafted so it said
I had to report on Thursday
I heard a ringing in my head

I didn't understand it all
To me it made no sense
This plain grey mottled envelope
Sent from my government

I followed the instructions
And showed up promptly at the place
Something was asunder
I could tell from the man's face

I showed him my draft letter
Explained, I didn't understand
He looked at it and laughed a bit
This wasn't what I'd planned

He said son, is this you
Are you John Augustus Reed
I told him I'm John Junior
He said that's all the news I need

This letter is a glitch, boy
It wasn't meant for you
It was sent out to your father
Back in nineteen seventy two

Somehow it was mangled
Got lost along the way
Until somebody found it
And you got it on that day

I'm glad you chose to come here
Showed up exactly when it said
But, I think you now can go on home
I think it's best, instead

It's amazing how one letter
And you can take this to the bank
Can fill a man with honor
For that I must give thanks.

A month ago I sat in class
in a New England School for boys
Now, I'm in a bomber group
Adjusting to the noise

I made plans for Harvard
A doctor, I would be
Then my life would turn
In a way I didn't see

The war was on in Europe
We saw in the press
But, 18 days before Christmas
we were pulled into the mess

Future plans were put aside
Our country we'd support
We'd forget all of our future thoughts
We'd join, though not for sport

We signed up down in Boston
Young men flyers, soldiers all
Preparing for a battle
Many would not live till fall

We thought not of our future
Our present, all we had
Many dead by Christmas next
The thought is truly sad

You do not what you want to
But, what needs to be done
You go from boy to man so fast
You've barely walked...now run

Think back on those who made it
Remember who did not
Young men they are forever
They deserve a longer thought

The air is pure and holy
It is scattered with young souls
Boys, now men who went to war
And put aside their goals

It's been 3 months since you've had a cigarette and you're doing just fine. The Marines whipped you into shape and you've lost ten pounds since i last saw you. Your muscles have been trained to be lethal and i think i would let you **** me if you had the chance. But you've kicked the habit and now your body no longer craves the daily dose of nicotine it so desired for a year. I never wanted to be your cigarette, you only used me when you were bored and stomped on me to finish me off when your lips couldn't. I only wanted to be your drugs, let you die for me. But it seems you've kicked that habit too. Now I'm not sure where i belong because your lungs seem so much stronger without me.