They took a sweet little boy,
And sent him off to war,
Then expected him to come home,
Just like he was before.
But there are too many memories,
Trapped inside his head,
He can’t help but to remember,
All the visions of the dead.
These memories that haunt him,
Show that freedom has a price,
To never forget the brave young men,
That made the ultimate sacrifice.
These young men are the saviors,
Our best, our proud, our brave,
We must honor those that fought and lived,
And all the heroes in their grave.
To all the boys that went to war,
We owe the greatest debt,
And like the soldiers that survived,
We can never, never forget.
©Copyright 2002 by Chris Woolnough