THE LAND THAT GOD FORGOT
Anonymous

Just across the Atlantic, Sinop is the spot
Here we spend our time in the land that God forgot.
Here with the Turks and Commies, here where a man gets blue,
Right in the middle of nowhere, and 8000 miles from you.

We sweat, we freeze, we shiver, the food we cannot stand,
Treated more like convicts than guardians of our land.
We are soldiers of the Army, earning our measly pay,
Guarding millions of people for two and a half a day.

Living alone with memories, thinking about our girls,
And while we're away from home, they give another guy a whirl.
Very few know we are living, and they don't give a damn –
While no open wars are fought, thoughts fade of Uncle Sam.

The time we spend in the service, this part of our lives we miss.
Boys, don't let the draft get you, and for God's sake don't enlist.
But when we reach those Pearly Gates, you'll hear Saint Peter yell,
"Fall in, you boys from Sinop, you've spent your time in Hell."

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