Sam Kentucket was the name
Of a man who lived in fame
For gunnin’ down the Germans
In East Norway

He hailed from North Mizzou
Joined the army in ‘forty-two
He left his childhood home
To join the crew

He learned how to shoot
Got a brand new pair of boots
Grew cold and dark
And mastered his salute

June six was the day
That the letter never came
From his darlin’ and lovin’ wife
Ms. Elizabeth Jane

He missed her with all his heart
It broke him to be apart
All he wanted was a kiss
And a sweet ****

Poor old Sammy boy
Will never buy a toy
For his newborn baby girl
Weighin’ half a stone

Samantha was the name
That her mother chose to gave
To remember her foolish dad
Who was too brave

She got her mama’s eyes
And her papa’s love for fries
Little Samantha girl
Never said goodbye

His soul was taken by surprise
His life flashed before his eyes
A uniform had shot him
From behind

Sam Kentucket was the name
For I saw it on his grave
He belonged to the fourth battalion
Of the U.S.A.

He never lived the life
He wanted with his wife
For the war had taken him
Before his time

But in the end you ought to know
That poor old Sam did know
That his family won’t remember
Him in woe

Sand as soft as silk below his leathered feet,
waves that dance like flames provide a steady beat.
He sits in peace beneath a coconut tree,
to ponder life’s wonders like the divine she.
Fishing boats disappear in the auburn sun,
then tourists tan take tiny tabs to tell them.
A little boy with wondering ears and eyes,
he felt something deep within was to arise.
That little boy picks and pockets shells to keep,
as tokens of an island his heart did reap.  
For so long his aching soul cried to go home,
return to the country where he was first born.