2004
My Dear Son, it is almost June,
I hope this letter catches up to you, and finds you well.
And everything's the same ol' same in Johnsonville.
Your stubborn 'ol Daddy ain't said too much,
But I'm sure he sends his love,
And she goes on,
In a letter from home.
I hold it up and show my buddies,
Like we ain't scared and our boots ain't muddy, and they all laugh,
Like there's something bout' the way I talk,
When I say: "Mama seds her best y'all."
I fold it up an' put it in my shirt,
Pick up my gun an' get back to work
An' it keeps me drivin' on,
Waiting on letters from home
My Dearest Love, it is almost dawn.
I've been lying here all night wondering where you might be.
I saw your Mama and I showed her the ring.
Man on the television said something so I couldn't sleep.
But I'll be all right, I'm just missing you.
An this is me kissing you:
XX's and OO's
In a letter from home.
I hold it up and I show my buddies,
Like we ain't scared and our boots ain't muddy, and the all all laugh,
Cause she calls me "Honey", but they take it hard,
Cause I don't read the good parts.
I fold it up an' put it back in my shirt,
An' it keeps me drivin' on,
Waiting on letters from home.
Dear Son, I know I ain't written,
But sittin' here tonight, alone in the kitchen, it occurs to me,
I might not have said, so I'll say it now:
Son you make me proud.
I hold it up and I show my buddies,
Like we ain't scared and our boots ain't muddy, but no one laughs,
'Cause there's nothing funny when a soldier cries.
An' I just wipe my eyes.
Pick up my gun an'get back to work.
An' it keeps me drivin' on,
Waiting on letters from home.
I hope this letter catches up to you, and finds you well.
And everything's the same ol' same in Johnsonville.
Your stubborn 'ol Daddy ain't said too much,
But I'm sure he sends his love,
And she goes on,
In a letter from home.
I hold it up and show my buddies,
Like we ain't scared and our boots ain't muddy, and they all laugh,
Like there's something bout' the way I talk,
When I say: "Mama seds her best y'all."
I fold it up an' put it in my shirt,
Pick up my gun an' get back to work
An' it keeps me drivin' on,
Waiting on letters from home
My Dearest Love, it is almost dawn.
I've been lying here all night wondering where you might be.
I saw your Mama and I showed her the ring.
Man on the television said something so I couldn't sleep.
But I'll be all right, I'm just missing you.
An this is me kissing you:
XX's and OO's
In a letter from home.
I hold it up and I show my buddies,
Like we ain't scared and our boots ain't muddy, and the all all laugh,
Cause she calls me "Honey", but they take it hard,
Cause I don't read the good parts.
I fold it up an' put it back in my shirt,
An' it keeps me drivin' on,
Waiting on letters from home.
Dear Son, I know I ain't written,
But sittin' here tonight, alone in the kitchen, it occurs to me,
I might not have said, so I'll say it now:
Son you make me proud.
I hold it up and I show my buddies,
Like we ain't scared and our boots ain't muddy, but no one laughs,
'Cause there's nothing funny when a soldier cries.
An' I just wipe my eyes.
Pick up my gun an'get back to work.
An' it keeps me drivin' on,
Waiting on letters from home.
Contributed by anonymous - 2010/6/18 - 00:45
Questa mi puzza più dei miei pannolini sporchi, come direbbe Baby Herman...
La mia comprensione dell'inglese è scarsa, ma qui mi sembra un quadretto familiare statunitense un po' sospetto...
A voi la sentenza, perfidi ma giusti Admins.
La mia comprensione dell'inglese è scarsa, ma qui mi sembra un quadretto familiare statunitense un po' sospetto...
A voi la sentenza, perfidi ma giusti Admins.
B.B. - 2020/6/13 - 20:54
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