Carrie ran a murderous crew   Dedicated through and through   And the chance to prove    they never squandered   And they liked to kill so clean   Save the innocent, kill the mean   But from time to time,    a bullet wandered      Carrie kept her souvenirs   Kept her scrapbook down the years   Of her brave boys, how she cried to read it   And a few fell by the way   Or lost the stomach for the fray   So young blood was always needed      Carrie noticed him right away   The way his whole body would sway   Like a trawler boy   Finding his legs ashore   They said he was just nineteen   A head case but his record was clean   Just the kind   They were looking for      Carrie watched him through the crack   As they teased him behind his back   They called him Little Joe   'Cos he scraped the ceiling   And when he was the worse for wear   She took him up the stair   And soon he fell   For her brand of healing      She said, I'll lie like a rose on your pillow   Let me twine the laurel in your hair   I want to smell my love on your fingers      If you want to be mine, Little Joe   You must harden your mind, Little Joe   We've got to fight for what is ours   Bring peace to the grave of my brother   Bring peace to the grave of my father   Dry the old eyes of my mother   Little Joe      There's a roadblock down the way   Thick with soldiers night and day   They'll hear the noise   All the way to Glengarry   If you show you've got the stuff   That you're sworn and brave enough   Then you'll stand tall   In the eyes of your Carrie      And I will lie like a rose on your pillow   And I'll twine the laurel in your hair   I want to smell revenge on your fingers      Guns are the Tongues, Little Joe   The only words we know   The only sound that'll reach their ears   Bring peace to the grave of my brother   Bring peace to the grave of my father   Dry the old eyes of my mother   Little Joe      Now Little Joe would've jumped clear   But for the awful fear   Of scraping his knees there on the gravel   The car was a rolling bomb   Blew all to Kingdom Come   They marvelled how far   His boots had travelled      Another hero snatched from my pillow   I used to twine the laurel in his hair   I want to smell sacrifice on my fingers      Guns are the Tongues, Little Joe   The only words we know   The only sound that'll reach their ears   Bring peace to the grave of my brother   Bring peace to the grave of my father   Dry the old eyes of my mother   Little Joe