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How could I forget your motherâs face,
And the time it took to settle down,
As she stood there in disbelief,
While off to war, I was bound.
Iâll send you kisses across the water,
For Iâd go mad if love werenât true.
Itâs hard to find someone to talk to,
Because over here, thatâs what the weapons do.
I wonât send you timber, nails and tears,
Because, honey,
That kind of thing ainât for you.
I hope youâre still running around the yard,
Picking red roses in the sun.
I know for you itâs so damn hard,
To catch the breath youâd never thought would run.
But springtime, I know, is on the move.
Oh, how I miss that old cherry tree.
Tell me all the white blossoms have bloomed,
Because over here, thatâs one thing you never see.
I wonât send you timber, nails and tears,
Because, honey,
That kind of thing ainât what you need.