My daddy was a fighting man   his daddy was one too   they both polished up their buttons   and waved red white and blue   when the parade came down main street   it was lined with kids like me   wondering when we'd be able    to be all that we could be      My grandfather left his leg   out in Flanders fields   he smiled when he came home   said "we will never yield"   He'd sit me on his stump   at least that's what they said   I was too young to remember   and now grandaddy's dead      My daddy stormed the beaches   at a place called Normandy   managed to come home without a scratch   at least none that I could see   but some nights I'd hear him crying   it would scare me half to death   and my mother would have to hold him   until he caught his breath      I'm a soldier   marching off to war   want my daddy to be proud   like his daddy before      So today I walk in Basra   and I think about my son   sitting in school and learning   about all the wars we've won   Not sure when I'll see him again   but I pray it will be soon   I'm a soldier the last in a line   under a stranger's moon      I know some people may have lied   to get me over here   it would not be the first time   but my duty is clear   I fight for my brothers   and the eyes up in the sky   and my son sitting awake at home   asking his mother why      I'm a soldier   marching off to war   want my daddy to be proud   like his daddy before