I was just a little girl when he went to Vietnam
Some went freely, other's were sent by someone called Uncle Sam
Some men ran to Canada, other's Mexico
Some were just to proud to run, like he, they had to go
To fight a war in which it really wasn't even our place
Only to come back home to find heartbreak and disgrace
Heartaches for their broken homes and lives that had gone awry
Is it any wonder that these men break down and cry?
They cry for all the time they've lost fighting in this war
We'll never know how much it's cost, nor even how much more
They'll have to suffer, day by day, for fighting so we wouldn't have to
These men faced our worse nightmares and that's how we said "thank you"?
They never got a waving banner, no ticker-tape parade
No "welcome home son", nor "job well done", no form of accolade
These were our fathers, husbands, sons, our classmates and our friends
For us this war is over, for them it never ends
I'm sorry, but to me it's personal, my dad went over there
I saw and felt what he went through and to say it wasn't fair
Is the biggest understatement of the century
They fought, they feared, they even died
so you and I could stay free
Now my sons are overseas, fighting for me and you
Please God, don't send them home to me
in a box draped in red, white, and blue.