By Jon Chesey
Lyrics
My first son was born on a bright summer morn,
With laughter as long as a hot summer day
And when the wars came, I begged him "don't go."
But glory called him and we would not stay.
He left my arms with a laugh and a dream.
On the battlefield his laughs turned to screams
Chorus
I've lost too many sons to too many wars,
They've died far from home on those far distant shores.
The needs of a mother are often ignored.
Now I'll be a mother, no more, no more.
I'll be a mother no more.
My second to me in a cold winter freeze,
With a heart that could melt ice as fast as a flame.
And when the wars came, I begged him "don't go."
But his spirit burned too hot for my words to tame.
On the battlefield a spear as cold as ice,
Snuffed out that flame with a blow too precise.
Chorus
My third son I'd bring in the warm days of spring,
With skin like the lily and cheeks like a rose.
And when the wars came, I begged him "don't go."
But he'd not be turned from the path he had chose.
Given my choice I'd as soon raise a coward,
Then the blood of my third son now water the flowers.
Chorus
Now three sons I've lost and they've measured the cost
Of a man's life to a small bag of gold.
And when the wars come, I'll say "I've no more",
For the warmth I once carried is buried and cold.
Though it's my sons who battled and there they were killed,
Make no mistake it is my blood they've spilled.
Chorus