Little Soldiers

Lonely boy joined the army back in 65
Only wanted to take with him his childhood skies
Lonely boy stole the moonlight from his babys eyes
Lonely boy held a picture of his old hometown
Hes cryingon and on and on and on his babys name
From Saigon swamps to Washington
Wind could hear him say

The guns are speakingtheir killing language
These words cant cleanmy blood-stained bandage
My little Harryplease,hear your daddy
Throw your tin soldiersthere aint no war games

Lonely boy in 1971 came back home
Voices said matriculation number 31
His hairs gone grey with surrendered bodies lyin dead
His eyes were red for all the blood they saw in Vietnam
Hes calling on and on and on his babys name
The guns are speakingtheir killing language
These words cant cleanmy blood-stained bandage
My little Harryplease,hear your daddy
Throw your tin soldiersthere aint no war games

Red tinted postcardsfrom hell around us
He said rather lose than let those victims mourn at my feet
There aint no winnersthere aint no medals
He killed a man, then Mr., whats the gain?

The guns are speakingtheir killing language
These words cant cleanmy blood-stained bandage
My little Harryplease,hear your daddy
Throw your tin soldiersthere aint no war games

Lonely boy tucked the baby up at night in bed
Whispering Sleep, little Harry,
Your tin soldiers arent dead
They arent dead