I was there in the winter of '64 When we camped in the ice at Nashville's doors Three hundred miles our trail had lead We barely had time to bury our dead When the Yankees charged and the colors fell Overton Hill was a living hell When we called retreat, it was almost dark I died with a grapeshot in my heart Say a prayer for peace for every fallen son Set my spirit free, let me lay down my gun Sweet Mother Mary I'm so tired But I can't come home till the last shot's fired In June of 1944 I waited in the blood of Omaha's shores Twenty one and scared to death My heart poundin' in my chest I almost made the first seawall When my friends turned and saw me fall I still smell the smoke, I can taste the mud As I lay there dying from loss of blood Say a prayer for peace for every fallen son Set my spirit free, let me lay down my gun Sweet Mother Mary I'm so tired But I can't come home till the last shot's fired I'm in the fields of Vietnam The mountains of Afghanistan And I'm still hopin', waitin', prayin' I did not die in vain Say a prayer for peace for every fallen son Set our spirits free, let us lay down our guns Sweet Mother Mary we're so tired But we can't come home till the last shot's fired Till the last shot's fired Say a prayer for peace for our daughters and our sons Set our spirits free, let us lay down our guns Sweet Mother Mary we're so tired But we can't come home No we can't come home till the last shot's fired © CURB MUSIC PUBLISHING; Bu döküman AkorMerkezi.com'da yayınlanmıştır. http://www.akormerkezi.com