Harold Land - Yes

Harold Land with a wave of his hand said goodbye to all that

He paid his bills and stopped the milk, then put on his hat

He tried to say his last farewells as quickly as he could

Promising that he would return, but doubted that he would

Doubted that he would, doubted

Now he’s marching soldiers in the rain as on to war they rode

A long thin line of human mind, damnation as their load

In the mud in coldness dark, he’d shiver out his fear

What disappointing sights he’d seen instead of ones so dear

Instead of ones so dear, so dear

Going home, He’s going home to the land he loved so well

Going home, He fought for two years, never fell

Going home, He’s going home

Going home.

He’s going home

Harold Land with a wave of his hand stood sadly on the stage

Clutching red ribbons from a badge, but he didn’t look his age

Only two years had passed between his leaving home and back

He had lost his love and youth while

Leading the attack, leading the attack

In conversation it could be said

Well after war your heart is dead

Well it’s not hard to understand

There is no heart in Harold Land