Sam was lyin' in the jungle. agent orange spread against the sky like marmalade. Hendrix played on some foreign jukebox. they were praying to be saved. Those gooks were fierce and fearless. that's the price you pay when you invade. Xmas in February. Sam lost his arm in some border town. his fingers are mixed with someone's crop. If he didn't have that opium to smoke. the pain would never ever stop. Half his friends are stuffed into black body bags. with their names printed at the top. Xmas in February. Sammy was a short order cook. in a short order black and blue collar town. Everybody worked the steel mill. but the steel mill got closed down. He thought if he joined the Army. he'd have a future that was sound. Like no Xmas in February. Sam's staring at the Vietnam Wall. it's been a while now that he's home. His wife and kid have left he's unemployed. he's a reminder of the war that wasn't won. He's the guy on the street with the sign that reads. "Please help send this Vet home". But he is home. and there's no Xmas in February. no matter how much he saves.