Watching the fields as he sped past the cities of wars that have crippled and severed past friends.
A tree that has seen all the bloodshed of nations but stands just as strong as the wars honored men.

And in his left hand was a love written letter; his right hand gripped tightly the steel of a gun.
Off in the distance, he heard fire and explosion, but inside his head just the voice of his son.

And he's gone, out in the gunspray. Will our eyes ever see him again?
The blood of a warrior, the heart of a mourner. Oh an angel heaven must send.

The love of a mother who kissed his cheek softly and cried in her bed at the thought of him gone.
The wife who had shook with their son in her arms, and the clothes he would wear well she'd sleep with them on.

The mailman arrived with a drag in his step as he knocked on the door with his eyes to the ground.
After delivering the note from the army, the world was left silent with no use for sound.

And he's gone, out in the gunspray. Will our eyes ever see him again?
The blood of a warrior, the heart of a mourner. Oh an angel heaven must send.

Six months had passed and the pain never left her, a photo could trigger her tears to flow free.
The doorball rang twice as she cooked up her dinner, another friends gesture - she wanted to be.

Flowers collected so high at her doorstep, that miles away you could smell their strong scent.
Her son would ask questions she'd find hard to answer, she'd say when he's older he'd know what she meant.

And he's gone, out in the gunspray. Will our eyes ever see him again.
The blood of a warrior, the heart of a mourner. Oh an angel heaven must send.

Another 6 months and she couldn't accept it, as flowers once gifts would just die on the ground.
A dinner alone in her now broken home was once again cut by the doorbells smooth sound.

She opened the door and she looked at the man as she fell to the floor and he grabbed her left hand.
Under a beard dressed with scars from the war was the man that she loved, she wouldn't be alone anymore, anymore, anymore, anymore!

He's back – out of the gunspray, breathing warm breath, oh my lord we can see him again!
The blood of a warrior redeems all the mourners, oh an angel, oh an angel!
He's back – out of the gunspray, streaming sweet life into every last link of his body.
The blood of a warrior redeems all the mourners, oh an angel, oh an angel
Oh an angel heaven had sent.