I came across a photograph
I had never seen before
of the the young man who became my Dad the day he went to war.
Beneath his youthful swagger
there was something in his eyes
like he'd summoned up the courage that would bring him back alive.

Though he seldom talked about it,
when I thanked him for his service
he would reply,
"As long as Old Glory flies
in American skies
we must honor our soldiers
who've died."

I remember one night Dad came home, he didn't look quite right,
There was whiskey on his breath
There were tears in his eyes.
"Son, the reason I am standing here, the reason you were born
was a damn fine soldier
who saved my life,
we laid to rest this morning."

Though he seldom talked about it,
when I thank him for his service
he only sighed.
"As long as Old Glory flies
in American skies
we must honor our soldiers
who've died."

Here's to those who never came home to this country they so loved,
Here's to those who lived in silence
with the horror and the blood.
When Dad was in his last days,
he said defiantly,
"We were the greatest fighting force this world has ever seen."

Though he seldom talked about it
I thanked him for his service
as I cried,
As long as Old Glory flies
in American skies
I will honor this soldier who died.
As long as Old Glory flies
in American skies
we must honor our soldiers
who've died.



Lyrics submitted by LitteTrain

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