All the good men finally come home
Marching no more some all alone
Lying beneath flags just as still as a stone
Riding past fields where they used to play
Back to the towns where they would have stayed
Finally home where their mothers prayed through the night
No more tears in those weary eyes
No more prayers to those silent skies
When old men talk war young men will die far away
Far from the fields where they used to play
Far from the towns where they would have stayed
Far from the homes where their mothers prayed for their lives
No more hope in those weary eyes
No more prayers to those silent skies
When old men talk war young men will die far away
Missa Solemnis -- sing sadly sing
Angel of Death -- spread wide your wings
Mothers will weep and bury their dreams in the night
All the good men and women come home
Marching no more, their duty done
Their mothers weep and bury their dreams in the night
In the night