It's midnight on the flight deck
of the Carrier, Coral Sea.
War's sorties flown, the day is done,
out on the China Sea.
The night is black, no moon or stars,
I walk the deck alone.
I've got the watch, the mid to four,
I wish I could be home.

Flight op's secured, the deck is cleared,
all hands have gone below.
The only lights are running lights,
I feel so all alone.
With planes chained down, the only sound,
ship's angry engines groan.
The cold wind blows, the oceans's cold,
my thoughts drift back to home.

Far off away, the distant blaze
of lightning, lights the sky.
There's men out there in deep despair,
so many men have died.
I pause to hear, the sound, if near,
of distant thunder's moan.
But there's no sound, but blowing wind,
across the ocean's foam.

It's zero-one, an hour's gone,
my watch is slipping by.
I think about their loved ones,
and how they must have cried.
Viet Nam, so far away,
what purpose could there be?
And are we really doing this,
to keep our country free?

In the darkness, watch your step,
the decks edge could be close.
Watch the chains, arresting gear,
and aircraft catapults.
Ship changes course and heels to port,
a wide turn in the sea.
I wonder if, back home tonight,
she's thinking now of me?

We lost two men, just yesterday,
their crippled plane went down.
No hope of rescue, from the sea,
it's sure they both had drown.
I spoke to one, before his flight,
he said he had no fear.
But then again, how could he know,
his death would be so near.

It's zero-two, I'm half way done,
I pull my arms in tight.
And brace myself against the wind,
it feels so cold tonight.
When I get home, I'll hold her close,
she means so much to me.
And maybe then I'll soon forget,
about this troubled sea.

The darkness swallows up our wake,
cold, misty clouds eclipse.
Horizon scanned for distant lights,
strained eyes can see no ships.
It seems we've sailed far away,
no other ships allied.
My thoughts, once more of Viet Nam,
and of the men who've died.

A carrier sails, forever on,
we must be far at sea.
The darkened ghosts of fear and dread,
are walking now with me.
Trying to dispel their evil hold,
I think again of home.
But they persist, won't give me rest,
as I walk the deck alone.

It's zero-three, an hour more,
and then my watch is done.
Ship's stacks are belching acrid smoke,
the sulfur burns your lungs.
I feel for those, who in this war,
have had to give so much.
And thankful now, out on this sea,
away from death's cold clutch.

Brave men have died in Viet Nam,
gave all they had to give.
And for their country, sacrificed,
while others freely live.
The war has taken from our best,
young men who'll never,
the love, and peace, and happiness,
the things they wanted so.

It's zero-four, my watch relieved,
another takes my place.
I turn to go, but looking back,
it's written on his face.
He's seen the dark, forbidding forms,
the ghosts of fear and dread.
He walks alone, the cold wind blows,
thoughts swirling in his head.

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