This shit aint real

country, acoustic, acoustic guitar, piano, guitar, male-vocals, popular song

Well it’s 110 and the sun’s still risin’
Camp Wilson cookin’ like a deep-fried horizon
Alpha Ax out here with dreams and a plan
But the routers are smokin’ and the Starlink ran

West’s on the roof with a satellite dish
Garfio’s prayin’ like, “Make that wish”
Garlotte’s yellin’, “Bro it’s not even plugged!”
And Grant just tripped on a buried hub

We got no bars, no hope, no chill
Just sand in our socks and a KG that’s killed
Macias is sweatin’ on ECP again 
Delgado’s whisperin’ to a broken KG
From switches to LEMs, it’s all gone wrong
But we’re still Marines, so we march along
Garlotte just crashed out and beat the KG with an old Crowbar
Ain’t no Wi-Fi, no shade, no thrills
Just broke transmissions and Camp Wilson lizards

Armada lost a switch in the port-a-john flood
Bannister’s covered in pure Mojave mud
Sir screamed, “Why’s the KG hot?!”
Delgado said, “Don’t ask, that’s all we got”
Then proceeded to put a water bottle on top

Staff Sergeant’s face is pure regret
Lieutenant’s gone rogue, ain’t seen him yet
Galvez is tryin’ to fix a CAT5 cord
But Lopez chewing it outta pure boredom

Chattman’s laughin’ but he’s dead inside
Delgado’s shirt soaked, can’t hide that cry
Banny’s lookin’ up like “Why’d we enlist?”
And Alas just muttered, “We ain’t built for this”

We’re bakin’ in a place God forgot to feel
Static on comms, man, none of this real

This sht ain’t real, man I swear it’s a dream
Where the sun don’t quit and the shade don’t mean
Grant’s passed out, Garfio’s peelin’ his face
Garlotte’s yellin’, “Get me outta this place!”
We’re sweatin’, we’re burnin’, no water to steal
Stuck in 29 Palms… this sht ain’t real

Canteens are dry and the humor’s dark
We’re gettin’ cooked like MREs in the park
And just when we think we’ve seen it all
Lieutenant Jackson says, “Gotta take that call…”

He flew out on that blacked-out bird
Left behind just sweat and curse words
Told us, “Y’all got this, stay strong, hoo-rah”
But his boots ain’t touched no desert since he said “rah”

This sht ain’t real, got mirages for days
Where lizards look judgmental and time don’t stay
Grant’s talkin’ to a rock, swears it’s his friend
Garfio nods like it all makes sense
We’re fried, we’re cracked, too broke to heal
Livin’ 29 Palms… this sht ain’t real

Ramos cussed and kicked a case,
Said, “This radio’s got Satan’s face!”
Leo’s got a signal but it loops some song,
From a station that ain’t been live that long.

Garfio’s in the back tryna ground the post,
Got shocked so hard he saw a ghost.
Custia’s tappin’ like it’s Morse Code magic,
But all they hear is fzzzzzk… just static.

“West, you sure you plugged it in?”
“…Shut up, Leo.”
zzzzkkk…
“…Chatman, why’s the antenna pointed at the porta-john?”
“Because that’s where this signal belongs.”

Hayesmaps tried pingin’, got nothin’ but fire
Olk kicked a router, now we’re down to wires
Leo’s got a headset taped to a rock
And Chattman’s outside having full shell shock

We got no bars, no hope, no grace
Just dreams of leave and a Starlink case
Costia’s crying near the comms case door
Hayesmaps lost the signal and his will to war
Porter’s pokin’ at a LEM like it’s a bomb
Olk said, “It’s dead bro, let it move on”
We’re fried, we’re cooked, but we’re standin’ still
Just broken comms and Camp Wilson thrills

Hepner’s out there tryin’ to call HQ
Berk’s in the dirt mumblin’, “I miss my crew”
White Sanders’ laptop caught on fire
Deleon said, “Perfect, throw it in the water!”

Galvez (again) got zapped by a switch
Van Del’s done — he’s diggin’ a ditch
Armada screamed at the desert sun
Nova said, “Bro, we just got begun…”

Soto, out in the heat hammering stakes for the L.R.S
30 minutes later the whole thing fell down
Now Hernandez saying the phones are down
Torres ran off chasin’ someone named Diablo 
Fazeitch just laughed, poured sand in his boot
Said, “If I die here, tell ‘em mute the route”

We got no bars, no fans, no breeze
Just a KG whinin’ in the desert seas
But we’re still standin’ in this hellhole sand
With a busted LEM and a jerrycan band
We ain’t connectin’ but we’re holdin’ strong
And we’ll keep tryin’ all day long
‘Cause we’re the ones who make comms real
Even when we’re broke out here in Camp Wilson’s grill

So raise that busted switch to the sky
Semper Fi till the routers fry
From the dust and heat, we’ll make that call
We’re Marines, dammit — we’ll connect it all

4355/7500

Well it’s 110 and the sun’s still risin’ Camp Wilson cookin’ like a deep-fried horizon Alpha Ax out here with dreams and a plan But the routers are smokin’ and the Starlink ran West’s on the roof with a satellite dish Garfio’s prayin’ like, “Make that wish” Garlotte’s yellin’, “Bro it’s not even plugged!” And Grant just tripped on a buried hub We got no bars, no hope, no chill Just sand in our socks and a KG that’s killed Macias is sweatin’ on ECP again Delgado’s whisperin’ to a broken KG From switches to LEMs, it’s all gone wrong But we’re still Marines, so we march along Garlotte just crashed out and beat the KG with an old Crowbar Ain’t no Wi-Fi, no shade, no thrills Just broke transmissions and Camp Wilson lizards Armada lost a switch in the port-a-john flood Bannister’s covered in pure Mojave mud Sir screamed, “Why’s the KG hot?!” Delgado said, “Don’t ask, that’s all we got” Then proceeded to put a water bottle on top Staff Sergeant’s face is pure regret Lieutenant’s gone rogue, ain’t seen him yet Galvez is tryin’ to fix a CAT5 cord But Lopez chewing it outta pure boredom Chattman’s laughin’ but he’s dead inside Delgado’s shirt soaked, can’t hide that cry Banny’s lookin’ up like “Why’d we enlist?” And Alas just muttered, “We ain’t built for this” We’re bakin’ in a place God forgot to feel Static on comms, man, none of this real This sht ain’t real, man I swear it’s a dream Where the sun don’t quit and the shade don’t mean Grant’s passed out, Garfio’s peelin’ his face Garlotte’s yellin’, “Get me outta this place!” We’re sweatin’, we’re burnin’, no water to steal Stuck in 29 Palms… this sht ain’t real Canteens are dry and the humor’s dark We’re gettin’ cooked like MREs in the park And just when we think we’ve seen it all Lieutenant Jackson says, “Gotta take that call…” He flew out on that blacked-out bird Left behind just sweat and curse words Told us, “Y’all got this, stay strong, hoo-rah” But his boots ain’t touched no desert since he said “rah” This sht ain’t real, got mirages for days Where lizards look judgmental and time don’t stay Grant’s talkin’ to a rock, swears it’s his friend Garfio nods like it all makes sense We’re fried, we’re cracked, too broke to heal Livin’ 29 Palms… this sht ain’t real Ramos cussed and kicked a case, Said, “This radio’s got Satan’s face!” Leo’s got a signal but it loops some song, From a station that ain’t been live that long. Garfio’s in the back tryna ground the post, Got shocked so hard he saw a ghost. Custia’s tappin’ like it’s Morse Code magic, But all they hear is fzzzzzk… just static. “West, you sure you plugged it in?” “…Shut up, Leo.” zzzzkkk… “…Chatman, why’s the antenna pointed at the porta-john?” “Because that’s where this signal belongs.” Hayesmaps tried pingin’, got nothin’ but fire Olk kicked a router, now we’re down to wires Leo’s got a headset taped to a rock And Chattman’s outside having full shell shock We got no bars, no hope, no grace Just dreams of leave and a Starlink case Costia’s crying near the comms case door Hayesmaps lost the signal and his will to war Porter’s pokin’ at a LEM like it’s a bomb Olk said, “It’s dead bro, let it move on” We’re fried, we’re cooked, but we’re standin’ still Just broken comms and Camp Wilson thrills Hepner’s out there tryin’ to call HQ Berk’s in the dirt mumblin’, “I miss my crew” White Sanders’ laptop caught on fire Deleon said, “Perfect, throw it in the water!” Galvez (again) got zapped by a switch Van Del’s done — he’s diggin’ a ditch Armada screamed at the desert sun Nova said, “Bro, we just got begun…” Soto, out in the heat hammering stakes for the L.R.S 30 minutes later the whole thing fell down Now Hernandez saying the phones are down Torres ran off chasin’ someone named Diablo Fazeitch just laughed, poured sand in his boot Said, “If I die here, tell ‘em mute the route” We got no bars, no fans, no breeze Just a KG whinin’ in the desert seas But we’re still standin’ in this hellhole sand With a busted LEM and a jerrycan band We ain’t connectin’ but we’re holdin’ strong And we’ll keep tryin’ all day long ‘Cause we’re the ones who make comms real Even when we’re broke out here in Camp Wilson’s grill So raise that busted switch to the sky Semper Fi till the routers fry From the dust and heat, we’ll make that call We’re Marines, dammit — we’ll connect it all

0/500