My daddy was a fighting manhis daddy was one too
they both polished up their buttons
and waved red white and blue
when the parade came down main street
it was lined with kids like me
wondering when we'd be able
to be all that we could be
My grandfather left his leg
out in Flanders fields
he smiled when he came home
said 'we will never yield'
He'd sit me on his stump
at least that's what they said
I was too young to remember
and now grandaddy's dead
My daddy stormed the beaches
at a place called Normandy
managed to come home without a scratch
at least none that I could see
but some nights I'd hear him crying
it would scare me half to death
and my mother would have to hold him
until he caught his breath
I'm a soldier
marching off to war
want my daddy to be proud
like his daddy before
So today I walk in Basra
and I think about my son
sitting in school and learning
about all the wars we've won
Not sure when I'll see him again
but I pray it will be soon
I'm a soldier the last in a line
under a stranger's moon
I know some people may have lied
to get me over here
it would not be the first time
but my duty is clear
I fight for my brothers
and the eyes up in the sky
and my son sitting awake at home
asking his mother why
I'm a soldier
marching off to war
want my daddy to be proud
like his daddy before