We carried Johnny home
Past the sycamore tree
A bullet sized hole apparent in his chest
A scarlet blanket covering his breast
A trail of red on grey stone
Followed Johnny home
Up to the door we marched poor Johnny
Just a child was he
We carried Johnny to his home up in the mountainside
His mother waiting there
Her face pale and scared
We carried Johnny home to his mother in the mountains
Hardly a word could he speak
He said I love you mum but I must go
I must go back down that road
Past the sycamore tree
For I can fight for myself and everyone else
And none shall fight for me
There Johnny lay
his fierce words ringing in everyone's minds
His mother reached down and gently shut his eyes
She said
Burry him in the battle field
Forever there he shall lie
Fighting for those who walk on earth
For the only peace hell have is if he's doing something great
So we carried Johnny down back past the sycamore tree
To lay poor Johnny to rest
The scarlet blood gone from his chest
Musket laid 'cross his breast
People wept
For that lost boy
For Johnny
Another child lost to the war
Bound to protect those who are in need
Bound to protect those he can
Bound in death and blood to the promise he made us all