Born One Morning
(To the tune of “16 Tons”)
CadenceText = Born one morning when the sun didn’t shine;
I picked up my rifle, and I walked to the firing line.
Shot forty bullets through the same little hole;
and the Drill Sergeant said, “Well’a bless’a my soul.”
You shoot forty targets and what’a ya get?
Another medal pinned on my chest.
St. Peter don’t call me cause I can’t go.
I owe my soul to the range control.
If you see me coming better step-a-side;
a lot of men didn’t, and a lot of men died.
One fist of iron and the other of steel;
if the right one don’t getcha’ then the left one will.
Score 330 on the PT test.
That’s another patch sewn on my chest.
St. Peter don’t call me cause I can’t go.
I owe my soul to the gym control.
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