The Train is LateIn His HandLittle Boy SoldierLittle Boy SoldierWaiting for his deathThe night wears onAnd his big brown eyesReal sleepyHe can't understandWhy MommyStands there weepingWhy this should beThe grandest timeHe and MommyEver hadLittle Boy SoldierLittle Boy SoldierLittle Boy SoldierWaiting for his deathThe train pulls inAnd his happy grinTurns to surpriseJust a box of pineAll covered fineWith a little bit of wineStars and stripesWith bewildered lookHe wonders whyHis MommyLooks so sadLittle Boy SoldierLittle Boy SoldierRuns to meetHis deathLittle Boy SoldierLittle Boy SoldierLittle Boy Soldier