Miesau Mafia (Golden Child)
(Blake/Morgan/HARDY style – 2:58 radio edit)
[Verse 1]
Little Falls, New York, ’62 baby born
’85 he signed the line, Army uniform worn
Redstone rockets, then Germany nights
Miesau depot runnin’ tight
They called him Golden Child, boots like the sun
Iron fist, velvet heart, got the damn job done
[Chorus]
Raise ’em up for the Miesau Mafia
Ordnance kings with a whiskey holler
He’d smoke your ass at morning PT
Then buy your broke self a beer by three
Golden Child, head of the pack
Turned wild boys into soldiers and never looked back
From Kuwait sand to Tennessee lake
We still hear that growl when the nights get late
Hell yeah, this one’s for CSM Tom Lettis
Miesau Mafia forever, Golden Child, God bless it
[Verse 2]
Hungary winters, 78 tents in the mud
Saved the Army 300K with sweat and blood
9/11 hit, he locked it down
TRADOC IG said “Best safety around”
Samuel Sharpe proud on his chest
Top 10% at SGM school, better than the rest
Retired the stripes in ’05
But the stripes never left that man alive
[Chorus]
Raise ’em up for the Miesau Mafia
Rulin’ hard with a father’s heart
Cussed us blue then shook our hand
Made every one of us twice the man
Golden Child, still larger than life
Now he’s fishin’ with Lynette, livin’ right
On Tims Ford Lake when the sun goes red
We still stand taller ’cause of what he said
[Bridge]
He’d say “Police that brass, square your gig line, son
Move with a purpose ’til the day is done”
Some things don’t retire
[Final Chorus – big]
So here’s to the Miesau Mafia
Last of the hardest, meanest, kindest breed
From Little Falls snow to that Tennessee breeze
Golden Child, we’re still at ease
When St. Peter needs an Ordnance crew
Bet Top’s already screamin’ “Move, move, move!”
Save a cold one, Tom, we’ll be there soon
Till then we’re raisin’ hell under this country moon
[Tag]
Miesau Mafia… Golden Child forever.
(2,456 characters with spaces — plenty of room for the steel guitar solo that’ll make grown men cry in their trucks)
BigMac19
