"You're A Crazy Marine"

My dad wrote this when he was a confused... crazy marine.

I'm a marine of sorts
I fly by night and day
Singing and wailing in the sun
With a song for a gun
But I don't have a dime
For the ups and the downs
And I don't have a penny
For all of my time
But I can see a way
As if a needle in the hay
Was pricking at my spine
And saying, "You're a crazy marine"
"You're a nut in a haystack."
And always remembering
That I'm alive
For I am not in my days
And I am not in my ways
I fly by a kite
With the string awfully tight
Around my neck pulling me back
And saying, "You're a crazy marine"
But then I shrug it off and say
Better dead than purple
Then I take my mind in my hand
And throw it back and forth
And try to decide what to do
There's no end to a life that is gone
And I see myself in a mirror
And it cracks and shatters
And says, "You're a crazy marine"
Then I sail for miles and miles
Singing my song with a gun
And take my time about
Going back and forth
Between the signs of beauty
And I watch a tree grow over a cloud
As if it were trying to walk
But I hit a place that is one or two times old
And I watch it while playing with my eyes
My heart is always here and there
I sometimes wonder if it is anywhere
But my mind is my feet
And I walk a thousand miles
Across a desert without an oasis
And where will it end?
Will it be on a sunny day?
Will it be on a rainy day?
Will there not be a day?
I'll wait till tomorrow and see
But tomorrow take me to the next
And I see a man watching himself watch me
And his eyes are long
And his face is gone
So I take my head
And I write a song to myself
That is a song of a rock
That flies back and forth
And hits me in the fingernail
And tomorrow has finally come
Because I am dead and buried
And people step on my grave with their feet.