| I was under the dryer when the telegram came:
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| «Private John C. Miller was shot down in Vietnam»
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| Through my tears I read: «No more information at this time
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| He’s missin' in action somewhere on the Delta Line»
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| And they say that I should be proud; |
| he was fightin' for me
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| They say that I should be proud, those too blind to see
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| But he wasn’t fightin' for me, my Johnny didn’t have to fight for me
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| He was fightin' for the evils of society
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| Now I prayed night & day that my Johnny wouldn’t die
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| Love, faith & hope was all that kept me alive
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| Then 6 weeks later came that cold & heartless letter:
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| «Private Johnny was killed in action, number 54 327»
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| And they say that I should be proud; |
| he was keepin' me free
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| They say that I should be proud, those too blind to see
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| But he wasn’t fightin' for me, my Johnny didn’t have to die for me
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| He was fightin' for the evils of society
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| They shipped him home with medals of honor & glory
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| Even our local paper ran a front-page story
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| But the whole time gave him praisin' & said how honored I should be
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| But I don’t want no superstar, just the good man they took from me
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| And they tell me I should be proud; |
| he was fightin' for me
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| They say that I should be proud, those too blind to see
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| But he wasn’t fightin' for me, my Johnny didn’t have to die for me
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| He’s a victim of the evils of society
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| I should be proud of my Johnny
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| They tell me that I should be proud; |
| they just don’t want Johnny for me
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| They tell me that I should be proud of my Johnny… |