I see the old and infirm man shuffling along the street
Wrapped inside an overcoat, no shoes on his feet
I hear these rambling words as he sinks down to his knees
Is this the same old man who fought to keep us free?
Chorus:
Why am I rejected, please tell me what I've done
All I did was fight so hard to ensure we won
All those broken promises, we thought were carved in stone
They promised "Homes fit for heroes and gave us heroes-fit for homes"
I stop to help the old man up, but he pushes me away
His pride is still intact, yet all I sense is decay
I stand back and wonder as he fixes me with a stare
And I spot those rusted medals, that prove no-body cares
Why do I feel so bad I ask? You bear a nations guilt,.
It's upon the blood of men like me, this free world is built
We were promised a heroes welcome, do you know what they gave?
A handshake and a new suit for the fallen, flowers on the grave
We sit and talk, it breaks my heart as he tells his tale
How maybe the dead were luckier, how he wished he'd fell
I couldn't help feeling his sadness but there's no bitterness there
From one so used to giving to a world that doesn't care