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  • Tom Boyd

Patriot’s Dream


The songs of the wars are as old as the hills They cling like the rust on the cold steel that kills They tell of the boys who went down to the tracks In a patriotic manner with the cold steel on their backs

The patriot’s dream is as old as the sky It lives in the lust of a cold callous lie Let’s drink to the men who got caught by the chill Of the patriotic fever and the cold steel that kills

The train pulled away on that glorious night The drummer got drunk and the bugler got tight While the boys in the back sang a song of good cheer While riding off to glory in the spring of their years

The patriot’s dream still lives on today It makes mothers weep and it makes lovers pray Let’s drink to the men who got caught by the chill Of the patriotic fever and the cold steel that kills

Well there was a sad, sad lady, weeping all night long She received a sad, sad message from a voice on the telephone Her children were all sleeping as she waited out the dawn How could she tell those children that their father was shot down So she took them to her side that day and she told them one by one Your father was a good man ten thousand miles from home He tried to do his duty and it took him straight to hell He might be in some prison, I hope he’s treated well

Well there was a young girl watching in the early afternoon When she heard the name of someone who said he’d be home soon And she wondered how they got him, but the papers did not tell There would be no sweet reunion, there would be no wedding bells So she took herself into her room and she turned the bed sheets down And she cried into the silken folds of her new wedding gown He tried to do his duty and it took him straight to hell He might be in some prison, I hope he’s treated well

Well there was an old man sitting in his mansion on the hill And he thought of his good fortune and the time he’d yet to kill Well he called to his wife one day, “Come sit with me awhile” Then turning toward the sunset, he smiled a wicked smile “Well I’d like to say I’m sorry for the sinful deeds I’ve done But let me first remind you, I’m a patriotic son” They tried to do their duty and it took ’em straight to hell They might be in some prison, I hope they’re treated well

The songs of the wars are as old as the hills They cling like the rust on the cold steel that kills They tell of the boys who went down to the tracks In a patriotic manner with the cold steel on their backs

The train pulled away on that glorious night The drummer got drunk and the bugler got tight While the boys in the back sang a song of good cheer While riding off to glory in the spring of their years

The patriot’s dream still lives on today It makes mothers weep and it makes lovers pray Let’s drink to the men who got caught by the chill Of the patriotic fever and the cold steel that kills

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