John Brown went off to war to fight on a foreign shore.
His mother sure is proud of him.
He stood so straight and tall in his uniform and all.
His mother's face broke out all in a grin.
Oh, son, you look so fine.
I'm glad you're a son of mine.
You make me proud to know you hold a gun.
Do what the captain says,
lots of medals you will get.
And we'll put them on the wall when you come home.
When that old train pulled out, John's mob
gun to shout,
telling everyone in the neighborhood,
that's my son that's about to go.
He's a soldier
now, you know.
She made well sure her neighbors understood.
She got a letter once in a while
and her face broke into a smile as she showed
them from to the people from next door.
And
she bragged about her son with his uniform
and gun and this thing she called a good old
fashion war.
Lord,
Lord,
good old fashion war.
And the letters ceased to come for a long time.
They did not come.
They ceased to come for about nine months or more.
Then a letter finally came saying,
go down and meet the train.
Your son's coming home from the war.
She smiled and went right down.
She looked up and all around,
but she did not see her soldier son in sight.
But as all the people passed,
she saw her son at last.
When she did, she could hardly believe her eyes.
His face was all shot up and his hands were both blown off.
And he wore a metal brace around his waist.
He whispered kind of slow in a voice she did not
know while she could not even recognize his face.
Oh,
tell me my darling son,
tell me what they've done.
How is it that you've come to be this way?
He tried his best to talk as his mouth could hardly
move and his mother had turned her head away.
Don't you remember Ma when I went off to war?
You thought it was the best thing I could do.
I was on the battleground.
You were home acting proud.
Me, thank God you wasn't standing in my shoes.
Lord,
I thought when I was there,
God,
what am I doing here?
I'm trying to kill somebody or die trying.
But the thing that scared me most is when
my enemy came close and I saw that his face
looked just like mine.
Lord,
Lord,
just like mine.
And through,
through,
and I could not help but think through the thunder
rolling stink that I was just a puppet in a play.
And through the roaring smoke,
the string it finally broke and a cannonball it blew my eyes away.
As he turned away to walk,
his Ma was still in shock,
seeing the metal brace that helped him stand.
But as he turned to go,
he called his mother close
and he dropped his medals down into her hand.
Lord,
Lord,
down to her hand.