He was on a journey he was at sail
And would call your name
As he wrote the tales about guns
In the distance about blood on the ground
And the fear in the air
And the battles that he found
But you had taken your leave
You did not think he would soon return home
Maybe you did not know he still loved you so
And all of his dreams were taken away

Winter was bitter and time dragged on
All alone in the night
To his grave he would stand
And there with his paper and pencil in hand
From the barracks he wrote for
Someone he loved
But you had taken your leave
You did not think he would soon return home
Maybe you did not know how much he loved you so
And all of his dreams were taken away

He kept the war in his mind and the demons at bay
He spent years with his memoirs
Then he gave them away
And every year in November we call out his name
Lest we forget the things given up
For the land that he served
But you had taken your leave
You did not think they would soon return home
Maybe you did not know he still loved you so
And all of his dreams were taken away
Maybe you did not know how much he loved you so
And all of his dreams were taken away
All of his dreams were taken away