God Bless the Soldiers

God bless the Soldiers dying young. In an unfamiliar land, Caught by war's impatient hand, Swept aside by fate before their song is sung. God bless the Soldiers dying young. God bless the Soldiers dying old. In a room above the stair, Fellow soldiers gathered there, Speaking softly of the times when they were bold. God bless the Soldiers dying old. So bring them home, and find a place For a final dose of grace From the land they lived to save Offer them a fresh cut grave, A community embrace. Then post these soldiers gently in the sod, Envelop them and hand them off to God. God bless the soldiers serving on. In a tank, or in a chair, Down a hole, or in the air, Never knowing if they'll see a peaceful dawn. God bless the soldiers serving on. We gather here that we may sense the community immense, Calling for us to respond, to that vast eternal bond Reaching out from the beyond A clarion that cannot be ignored: To join them in the Army of The Lord.