| I found your picture in a corporal’s pocket
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| His cold fingers still pressed it to his chest
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| Sniper’s bullet took his eyes and his breath away
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| Now he lies out in the forest with the rest
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| You looked shy in your grandmother’s wedding dress
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| Feet set wide like a farm girl stands
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| Too young to love and too young to lose
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| In a cracked picture frame in a dead man’s hands
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| I kept it with me for the luck, for the magic
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| Maybe fate wouldn’t strike in the same place twice
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| But something stirred and I dared to dream of you
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| And I knew I’d look for you if I should survive
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| Whe we stood down at last it was easy to find you
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| And mine was the shoulder you cried on that day
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| Just an old comrade doing his duty
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| Bringing the news from the woods of Darney
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| When I showed you the picture, perhaps I felt jealousy
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| As your tears welled up with each reminisce
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| And my hands may be rougher and my tongue may be coarser
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| But I knew I could give you a love good as his
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| Now we lie in the darkness together
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| Often we lie without speaking this way
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| As you stare in the dark do you see your young corporal
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| Who never came back from the woods of Darney
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| Is it him that you see when we make love together?
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| Is it him that you see when war fills the sky?
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| Was he there as you stood in your grandmother’s wedding dress
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| As we made our own vows, you and I?
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| Now the bugle calls, they say this is the big one
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| A curse on the life of a soldier, you say
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| But don’t you know that’s a soldier’s small comfort
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| For the bugle to sound, and to hear, and obey
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| And I’ll carry your picture, the one that he carried
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| I’ll wear your innocence and take my chance
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| On a frozen field, in a far-flung war
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| To win back what we lost in a field in France
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| And it’s many a soldier who goes into battle
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| Your corporal and I, we just hear and obey
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| Perhaps we’ll lie in the darkness together
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| With your love to bind us, in the woods of Darney |