| Got to get some gold medals
|
| Come put them on my sleeve
|
| Baby
|
| And a diploma too with my name on top
|
| For all the hardships and deeds
|
| You know what I mean
|
| Do you know what I mean
|
| Push, push the pram, all right
|
| I push till my hands are getting white
|
| Salty tears are rolling down my cheeks
|
| Where’s the cigar the awards
|
| Come on before my breasts will start to leak
|
| You know what I mean
|
| Do you know what I mean
|
| If I’d returned from a fight
|
| From a battlefield with some new scars on my face
|
| And shot holes in my knees
|
| If I was bloodstained and wild
|
| If I held a trophy in my arms oh man
|
| Not a newborn child
|
| If I’d returned from a fight
|
| Then people would have called me a hero
|
| Push, push the pram, oh mum
|
| I push it forward until my feet are getting numb
|
| Sweat is dripping down my chest
|
| Haven’t seen no medals yet
|
| Baby can I ask you why
|
| I know you can not speak yet son
|
| You know what I mean
|
| Do you know what I mean
|
| If I’d returned from a fight
|
| From a battlefield with some new scars on my face
|
| And shot holes in my knees
|
| If I was bloodstained and wild
|
| If I held a trophy in my arms oh man
|
| Not a newborn child
|
| If I’d returned from a fight
|
| Then people would have called me a hero
|
| If I’d returned from a fight
|
| From a battlefield with some new scars on my face
|
| And shot holes in my knees
|
| If I was bloodstained and wild
|
| If I held a trophy in my arms oh man
|
| Not a newborn child
|
| If I’d returned from a fight
|
| Then people would have called me a hero
|
| Through all the hardships and the deeds
|
| No nights sleep but some haunting dreams
|
| Through all your hardships you must dream… |