The dance continues after the smoke has cleared
Sometimes I lead and sometimes the dance leads me
Dreams are on flashback or rewind or fast forward
While the music of explosions and the snap of bullets continues

The war isn't over while the dancers twirl

How long does it take for paddy mud to dry
How long for the jungle smells to fade
Graves were dug long ago, but bullets still fly
as the dancers go by

There are no friends in the dreams
Some come close and learn of my story
But the dance pushes them away
Raising the wall because they know too much
They know the inside and what's in these boxes
that are hidden away

The war isn't over while the dancers twirl

The war isn't over in the dreams of day
Or the nightmares of sleep where tears flood
out at unexpected times

Joyful crowds trigger desperate thoughts
Reminding me that I control the end of the war
It could be neat or it could be an exciting end --
some have preferred to end the dance in a blaze of glory

The war isn't over while the dancers twirl

These things cross my mind
As the dream leads the dance, I step from the
party and feel the emotional conflict and
the desire to end the dance. Tears of sadness
for me where those inside have tears of laughter

A will of mind changes the subject
Pushing the dream back into a box
Let them dance in there where it's safe
Leave me alone. The war isn't over -- yet,
and I'm going out on patrol. I'll pull perimeter
guard until relieved.

I'll put on the cammo face and bug juice
and tape down my swivel
And breath in the smell of that rice paddy mud
and the rotten jungle growth and the dried
blood that refreshes itself day to day

The war isn't over while the dancers twirl