O they say that the war's nearly won,
And declare there's a change in the wind;
Amd my feet stumble on, and a year's come and gone
And they say that the war's nearly won.
Another day shall arise
Another red morning sun
My seasons are counted
And marching away
Still a soldier I'm far from my home.
Sweet peace, when will you come again?
You turn like a far star alone.
Will I ever be blessed with your innocent rest,
And be free and be safe and be home?
Still they say that the war's nearly won,
And declare there's a change in the wind-
And the years stumble on, and a thousand years gone,
And they say that the war's nearly won.
And declare there's a change in the wind;
Amd my feet stumble on, and a year's come and gone
And they say that the war's nearly won.
Another day shall arise
Another red morning sun
My seasons are counted
And marching away
Still a soldier I'm far from my home.
Sweet peace, when will you come again?
You turn like a far star alone.
Will I ever be blessed with your innocent rest,
And be free and be safe and be home?
Still they say that the war's nearly won,
And declare there's a change in the wind-
And the years stumble on, and a thousand years gone,
And they say that the war's nearly won.
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