The dark clouds became red.
A wounded solider lifts his head
With his fingers still glued to his trigger
He has no time to feel sad and bitter.

Him being only a young lad, too young
To men.
As he lay freezing and wet in this muddy
Great den.
His comrades are dying, his colonel
Is shot.
Will he make it home or will his life be forgot.

The noises the blasts fly high in the air.
He must fight back but right now
Does he dare?
As he shakes in his boots with fear
And dread.
He hears his mother’s last words
Round and round in his head …….

“You always a hero to me and
Ya dad,
Be safe and come home son
Don’t leave us all sad.
This war is a burden for all to bear
We fight it here you fight it there
One day there’ll be peace and we’ll be
Together at last.
And all of this terror will be a thing
In the past.
Hold your head high son, do the best you can
It’s time you leave the boy behind
And fight like a man.”

When you arrive home on that glorious plane
With your arms open wide.
I’ll hold you so tight and no why I cried.
Your country you help save with your
Brothers in arms
Welcome home my hero you’re free
From all harm.