I don't have the same fingering skills, so I have had to simplify the chords for my skill level.   
Holding off on the  line works for some verse. 
Dust Of Uruzghan – Fred Smith 
In the ring they called me “Warlord”, my mother calls me Paul 
You can call me Private Warren when your filing your report 
As to how I came to be here this is what I understand 
In this hospital in Germany from the Dust of Uruzgan 
I had just turned 28, just bought a new car 
When I joined the first Battalion of the Big One RAR 
We were next up for deployment into south Afghanistan 
To combat the insurgence in the Dust of Uruzgan 
It took seven months of training just to get into the joint 
There were pushups and procedures there was death by power point 
Then the RSOI course in Ali Al Salaam 
But nothing can prepare you for the Dust of Uruzgan 
Me and Benny sat together flying into Kandahar 
Sucked back on our near beers in the Camp Baker Bar 
Then up at 0530 we were on the Herc and out 
Twenty flying minutes we were in to Tarin Kowt 
We shook hands as the boys Ripped out from MRTF one 
And pretty soon were out patrolling in the Afghan summer sun 
Walking through the green zone with a Styer in my hand 
Body armor chafing through the dust of Uruzgan 
We started up near Chora working 14 hours a day 
Mentoring a Kandak from the Afghan 4th brigade 
Down through the Baluchi into eastern Dorafshan 
Working under open skies in the dust of Uruzgan 
It’s a long way from Townsville not like any place you’ll see 
Suddenly you’re walking through from the 14th century 
Women under burkhas, tribal warlords rule a land 
Full of goats, and huts and jingle trucks is the Dust of Uruzgan 
And the Education Minister can neither read nor write 
And Minister for Women runs the knock shop there at night 
They’ve been fighting here forever over water, food and land 
Murdering each other in the dust of Uruzgan 
There’s nothing about this province that’s remotely fair or just 
worse than the corruption is the endless f#*%!ing dust 
Its as fine as talcum powder on the ground and in the air 
And it gets in to your eyes and it gets in to your hair 
And it gets in to your weapon and it gets in to your boots 
When bureaucrats all show up here it gets in to their suits 
It gets in the machinery and foils every plan 
Theres some quite symbolic about the dust of Uruzgan 
Still the people can be gracious and they’re funny and their smart 
And When the children look into your eyes they walk into your heart 
They face each day with courage and each year without a plan 
Beyond scratching for survival in the Dust of Uruzgan 
But the Taliban are ruthless keep the people terrorized 
With roadside bombs and  hangings and leaving letters in the night 
And they have no useful vision for the children of this land 
But to keep them praying on their knees in the Dust of Uruzgan 
It was a quiet Saturday morning when the 2 Shop made a call 
On a compound of interest to the east of COP Mashal 
We had some information they were building IED’s 
So we cordoned and we searched it in accord with SOPs 
I was on the west flank picket, propped there with Ben 
there to keep a watchful eye out while the other blokes went in 
We looked for signs of danger from the TTPs we’d learned 
But the Nationals were moving back and forth without concern 
We’d been standing still for hours when I took a quick step back 
Kicked a small AP mine, and everything went black 
Woke up on a gurney flat out on my back 
had to ask them seven times just to get the facts 
That I lived to tell the story through a simple twist of fate 
The main charge lay ten feet away from the pressure plate 
You see the mine was linked by det chord to a big charge laid by hand 
Hidden there under Benny by the Dust of Uruzgan 
I was a Queensland Champ Thai Boxer now I look south of my knee 
And all I see is bed sheets were my right foot used to be 
Benny’s dead and buried underneath Australian sand 
But his spirits out their wandering through the Dust, the Dust of Uruzgan 
Now I’m going back to Townsville it’s the city of my birth 
Some go back to Ballarat and some go back to Perth 
I’ll be living with my mother who’s still trying to understand 
Why we’re spending blood and treasure in the Dust, the dust of Uruzgan