My name is                            Dodge, then you know that
 it's written on                            the chart there at the foot end of the bed.
 They think I'm                            blind, that I can't read it,
 but I've read                            it, every word and every word it says is "death".
 So confession, is                            that the reason that you came?
 Get it off                            my chest, before I check out of the game?
 Since you mention                            it, well there's thirteen things I'll name,
 thirteen crosses high                            above, the cold Missouri waters.

 August 'Forty-Nine, North                            Montana,
 the hottest day                            on record, the forest tinder dry.
 Lightning strikes, in                            the mountains.
 As crew chief                            at the jump base I prepared the boys to fly.
 Pick the drop                            zone, C-47 comes in low.
 Feel the tap,                            upon your leg that tells you "GO".
 See the circle,                            of the fire down below.
 Fifteen of us                            dropped above, the cold Missouri waters.

 Gauged the fire,                            I'd seen bigger.
 I ordered them                            to sidehill, we'd fight it from below.
 We'd have our                            backs, to the river.
 We'd have it                            licked by morning even if we took it slow,
 But the fire                            crowned, jumped the valley just ahead.
 There's no way                            down, headed for the ridge instead.
 Too big to                            fight it, we'd have to fight that slope instead.
 Flames one step                            behind above, the cold Missouri waters.

 Sky turned red.                            Smoke was boiling.
 Two hundred yards                            to safety, death was fifty yards behind.
 I don't know                            why, I just thought it.
 I struck a                            match to waist high grass --- running out of time.
 Tried to tell                            them, step into this fire I set.
 We can't make                            it, this is the only chance you'll get.
 But they cursed                            me, ran for the rocks above instead.
 I lay face                            down and prayed above, the cold Missouri waters.

 a a a                            aa aa

 And when I                            rose, like the phoenix,
 that world reduced                            to ashes there were none but two survived.
 I stayed that                            night, one day after.
 Carried bodies to                            the river, wondering how I stayed alive.
 Thirteen stations, of                            the cross to mark their fall.
 I've had my                            say, I'll confess to nothing more.
 I'll join them                            now, those that left me long before.
 Thirteen crosses high                            above the cold Missouri water.
 Thirteen crosses high                            above the cold Missouri shoooooooor. uu uu uuuu