People starin' at me as they wheel me down the ramp toward my plane
The war is over for me, I've forgotten everything except the pain
"Thank you sir and yes sir, it was worth it for the old red white and blue
Since I won't be walkin', I suppose I'll save some money buyin' shoes"
The bottle hidden underneath the blanket over my two battered legs
I can see the stewardess makin' over me and askin me "were you afraid?"
I say "why no I'm Superman, couldn't find the phone booth quite in time"
A G.I. gets a lot of laughs if he remembers all the funny lines
Mama bake a pie, Daddy kill a chicken
Your son is comin' home eleven thirty-five Wednesday night
Mama will be cryin', daddy's gonna say "Son, they treat you good?"
My uncle will be drunk and he'll say "Boy they do some real great things with wood"
The letter that she wrote me said goodbye, she couldn't wait and lots of luck
The bottle underneath the blanket feels just like an old friend to my touch
And I know she'll come and see me, but I bet she never once looks at my legs
She'll just talk about the weather and the dress she wore, the July 4th parade
Lord I love her so much that I don't think I can drink her off my mind
And I can see it in the paper where they're sayin' that the war's a waste of time
Mama bake a pie, Daddy kill a chicken
Your son is comin' home eleven thirty-five Wednesday night
Your son is comin' home eleven thirty-five Wednesday night
Your son is coming home eleven thirty-five Wednesday night