| Do not weep, child: war is kind
|
| For your father threw wild hands toward the sky
|
| And his steed ran alone in the night
|
| Do not weep, child: war is kind
|
| On orphan now, you’re the one
|
| And what you recall of him
|
| You look for now a man
|
| Here in the callus of the southern ground
|
| Where you buried him
|
| A boy has risen to stand and you find his eyes as blue
|
| And his heart is red and his soul is burnin' white
|
| Ah, but you can’t believe your eyes
|
| When you find
|
| That it’s callin' him to the light
|
| Like it called him to the line
|
| But do not weep, maiden: war is kind
|
| As your lover tumbles in yellow trenches
|
| Rage in his breast, gulps and dies
|
| Do not weep, maiden: war is kind
|
| Widow now he is gone
|
| And how you long for him
|
| And see him now in your son
|
| Ah, but you can’t believe your eyes as we go blind again
|
| Blind again, the united state of Americans
|
| Who are callin' now for their boys
|
| Callin' now for your boy
|
| But do not weep, mother: war is kind
|
| As you hang your heart humble as a button
|
| On the shroud of your son
|
| Do not weep, mother: war is kind
|
| Do not weep, mother: war is kind |