[Intro — alarm clock goes off] MARINE: Fuck... [pause] Wait. I don't have formation. [alarm shuts off] Oh, this is fucking beautiful. [Fast melodic punk riff kicks in] [Verse 1] Got my orders to First Civ Division, Third Force Recline, Camp Couch, DD-Two Fourteen in my hand, And nobody can kick me out. No formation Monday morning, No one's checking on my shave, Put my hands inside my pockets— Just because I fucking can. Walked across the grass this morning, Nobody screamed from fifty yards, Didn't blouse my fucking trousers— Civilian life's hitting hard. [Pre-Chorus] No duty roster, no field day, No Gunny asking where I've been, They say, "Welcome back to normal life..." What the fuck is normal again? [Chorus] FIRST CIV DIV! THIRD FORCE RECLINE! Stationed down at Camp Couch, And I'm doing fucking fine! Hands inside my pockets, Beard completely out of regs, DD-Two Fourteen protects me— SERGEANT MAJOR, KISS MY ASS! They call me a former Marine— THERE'S NO SUCH FUCKING THING! Once a Marine, always a Marine... I JUST DON'T HAVE FORMATION IN THE MORNING! [Verse 2] Used to hump with eighty pounds, Now the stairs are kicking my ass, Used to run three miles before breakfast— Now I DoorDash fucking snacks. Got a beard because I can now, Haircut's way beyond the line, Haven't polished boots in years— And somehow life's been mostly fine. Civilian boss says, "Call me Steve." I said, "Roger that." He looked confused. Apparently they don't say "Eye, sir," And knife-hands aren't approved. [Pre-Chorus] Some guy bitched about working late, Said, "It's almost five-oh-three!" I nearly called him a fucking boot— Then remembered... So am I. [Chorus] FIRST CIV DIV! THIRD FORCE RECLINE! Stationed down at Camp Couch, And I'm doing fucking fine! No haircut regulations, Nobody inspecting where I sleep, DD-Two Fourteen protects me— AND MY WEEKENDS BELONG TO ME! They call me a former Marine— THERE'S NO SUCH FUCKING THING! Once a Marine, always a Marine... I JUST DON'T HAVE FORMATION IN THE MORNING! [Verse 3] Been out for twenty fucking years, Some habits never disappear, Hear somebody yell, "HEY, FUCK FACE!" I still turn around like, "Yeah, I'm here." Then realize they're yelling at somebody else, And think, Jesus Christ, that's strange... I haven't seen those assholes in forever— But apparently I still know my name. Still fifteen minutes early To absolutely everything, Still back into every parking spot Like the General's visiting. Still say "head" instead of bathroom, Still eat faster than I should, Still see another Marine in public— One nod. We're good. [Verse 4] Somebody calls me "ex-Marine," I still correct 'em every time. You can leave the Core behind you, But you don't leave it all behind. Still know birthdays I can't forget, Still got numbers in my phone For guys I haven't talked to in years I'd still answer if they called. We scattered out across the country, Jobs and families, separate lives, But twenty years can disappear With one "Semper Fi" online. [Verse 5] Truth is, I don't miss the bullshit, Don't miss duty, don't miss games, Don't miss cleaning something spotless Just to fucking clean it again. Don't miss waiting for formation, Don't miss hurry-up-and-wait, Don't miss getting called on Saturday For something planned since fucking May. But November tenth still hits me, And an old cadence does the same, See that Eagle, Globe and Anchor— And something in me hasn't changed. I don't want those years all over. Hell, we couldn't live that way. But I'd give damn near anything For one more night with those idiots again. [Instrumental — melodic guitar builds into final chorus] [Final Chorus] FIRST CIV DIV! THIRD FORCE RECLINE! Stationed down at Camp Couch, And we're doing fucking fine! Hands inside our pockets, Beards completely out of regs, DD-Two Fourteen in hand— AND NO ONE'S CHECKING OUR RACKS! Call us old and call us broken, Call us whatever you please, But don't call us former Marines— WE FUCKING EARNED MARINE! FIRST CIV DIV! THIRD FORCE RECLINE! The Core might be behind us— But the brothers never are. No, I wouldn't reenlist tomorrow... [pause] Probably. [Outro — quiet guitar] WIFE: Hey, fuck face! MARINE: Yeah?! [pause] Goddammit. WIFE: What? MARINE: Nothing. Old habits. [Final chord]
