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Lonely boy joined the army back in â65
Only wanted to take with him his childhood skies
Lonely boy stole the moonlight from his babyâs eyes
Lonely boy held a picture of his old hometown
Heâs crying on and on and on and on his babyâs name
From Saigon swamps to Washington
Wind could hear him say
The guns are speaking their killing language
These words canât clean my blood-stained bandage
My little Harry please, hear your daddy
Throw your tin soldiers there ainât no war games
Lonely boy in 1971 came back home
Voices said âmatriculation number 31â
His hairâs gone grey with surrendered bodies lyinâ dead
His eyes were red for all the blood they saw in Vietnam
Heâs calling on and on and on his babyâs name
The guns are speaking their killing language
These words canât clean my blood-stained bandage
My little Harry please, hear your daddy
Throw your tin soldiers there ainât no war games
Red tinted postcards from hell around us
He said ârather lose than let those victims mourn at my feetâ
There ainât no winners there ainât no medals
He killed a man, then Mr., whatâs the gain?
The guns are speaking their killing language
These words canât clean my blood-stained bandage
My little Harry please, hear your daddy
Throw your tin soldiers there ainât no war games
Lonely boy tucked the baby up at night in bed
Whispering âSleep, little Harry,
Your tin soldiers arenât deadâ
They arenât dead