The songs of the wars are as old as the hills
They cling like the rust on the cold steel that kills
They tell of the boys who went down to the tracks
In a patriotic manner with the cold steel on their backs
The patriot's dream is as old as the sky
Well there was a sad, sad lady, weeping all night long
She received a sad, sad message, from a voice on the telephone
Her children were all sleeping, as she waited out the dawn
How could she tell those children, that their father was shot down
So she took them to her side that day, and she told them one by one
Your father was a good man ten-thousand miles from home
He tried to do his duty and it took him straight to hell
He might be in some prison, I hope he's treated well
VERSE 6:(Same chords as Verse 5)