|The Final Inspection
The Marine stood and faced his God
Which must always come to pass
He hoped his shoes were shining
Just as brightly as his brass.
Step forward now, you Devil-Dog,
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To my Church have you been true?
The Marine squared his shoulders and said,
No Lord, I guess I am not
Because those of us who carry guns
Cannot always be a saint.
I have had to work most Sundays
And at times my talk was rough,
And sometimes I have been violent,
Because the streets are awfully tough.
But, I never took a penny
That was not mine to keep
Though I worked a lot of overtime
When the bills just got too steep.
And I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times I shook with fear,
And sometimes, God forgive me,
I have wept unmanly tears.
And I know I do not deserve a place
Among the people here,
They never wanted me around
Except to calm their fears.
If you have a place for me here, Lord,
It need not be so grand,
I never expected or had too much,
But if you do not, I will understand.
There was a silence all around the throne
Where the saints had often trod
As the Marine waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.
Step forward now, Marine
You have borne your burdens well,
Walk peacefully on Heavens streets,
You have done your time in Hell”