He sat in that long line of barber chairs,
And the Sargent asked him-son would you like to keep your hair?
He said ‘Yes sir’ as he heard those clippers buzzin hum.
And the Sargent said -well hold out your hands cuz here it comes.

Semper Fi, do or die.
So gung-ho to go and pay the price.
Heres to Leathernecks, Devil Dogs, and Jarheads.
And Parris Island in July-Semper Fi.

I sleep in my bed instead of a foxhole.
I’ve never heard my boss tell me to lock and load.
Ain’t no bullet holes in the side of my SUV,
Because the kid next door just shipped out overseas.

Semper Fi, do or die.
So gung-ho to go and pay the price.
Heres to Leathernecks, Devil Dogs, and Jarheads.
And Parris Island in July-Semper Fi.

For the few that wear the dress Blues,
Hack up good high and tight.
Who are proud to be the first ones in the fight,
Semper Fi.

Semper Fi, do or die.
So gung-ho to go and pay the price.
Heres to Leathernecks, Devil Dogs, and Jarheads.
And Parris Island in July,
Never leave a man behind.
A Marine, a Marine for life,
Semper Fi.

Listen to the song:

One Response to "Semper Fi" by Trace Adkins

  1. "Gil" Gilmour says:

    I remember well PI in July, and Aug, Sept, and early Oct as I hit the yellow foot prints at 0100 22 July 1964. Our punishment was drill in the late evening in the Motor T lot by the swamps at 3rd Btln. Thats were the 3rd Btln DI’s grew the largest of those blood suckers, just for our enjoyment. We learned to covertly blow the vicious blood thirsty PI gnats off the guys neck in front of us while in formation thinking the DI never knew, poor recruit in the last rank, BUT, thats page 3 for the informed. You’ve never seen any man or boy jump so high as the Senior stood close in front of a screw up and just “flicked” his elbow toward the “worm’s” notorius solar plexus, “Your other left sh– for brains”. Oh for the life at the Range with smoking lamp lite, extra chow, cold milk, and no gnats thanks to the breeze from the sea. But woe unto the “Worm” that went “unq” on Qual day or failed to make the length of the pool in abandon ship drill, especially without his waterlogged WWII M-1 Garand in tow. And the pitiful “lady” whose girlfriend or Mom sent him cookies or other “poggiebait” in the mail with the required chaser of a jig of Wisk with each bite. Always thought steam pipes were for transporting steam heat until we learned the real reason for their existance was to grab your ankles and hang like a sloth under attack from below. Of course some things do change due to political correctness and slackness, for if one called his skivies, trou, or uties “pants”, the DIs always had an over sized pair of lace ones to wear over his “girlie” outer wear. Women wear pants, men wear jeans, slacks, and preferably trou. Now as an old NOAD Sgt. I’ve even caught active duty Generals calling them pants. Wonder if they also get away with calling their rifle (for fighting) a “gun” (only for fun). Even Arty called their weapons “pieces” and if unrifled, cannon. Does anyone remember their field signals such as “cover me” and “f–u, I’m covered”. How about calling a DI a female sheep, talk about a death wish. And what about these cards carried by recruits like a soccer ref.. Might as well be with the Doggies or Airedales.

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