He got no ribbons, no decorations
They sent no medals to his sad parents
Just sent a letter telling them their son had died
Killed by a bullet
Now every night his mother cries
He was only eighteen when he joined the army
It wasn't patriotic pride
It was the only job that he could find
Four months later he's in the Falkland Islands
A boy with a gun and a hand grenade
He's cold, homesick and frightened
The army sent condolences
The army sent a wreath
They said they all felt proud of him
They sent his ashes back in a tin
He got no ribbons, no decorations
They sent no medals
No mention in dispatches
He's soon forgotten like so many others
He won no medals no mention in dispatches
The government sent a letter saying they were proud
The government sent a letter thanking his sad parents
He got no ribbons no decorations
They sent no medals to his sad parents
They sent no medals to his sad parents
Just sent a letter telling them their son had died
Killed by a bullet
Now every night his mother cries
He was only eighteen when he joined the army
It wasn't patriotic pride
It was the only job that he could find
Four months later he's in the Falkland Islands
A boy with a gun and a hand grenade
He's cold, homesick and frightened
The army sent condolences
The army sent a wreath
They said they all felt proud of him
They sent his ashes back in a tin
He got no ribbons, no decorations
They sent no medals
No mention in dispatches
He's soon forgotten like so many others
He won no medals no mention in dispatches
The government sent a letter saying they were proud
The government sent a letter thanking his sad parents
He got no ribbons no decorations
They sent no medals to his sad parents
envoyé par Alessandro - 17/2/2010 - 13:34
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Album "The Painted Word"