John Michael Montgomery - Letters From Home (Warner Bros.'04) - Синглы / Single_s | Текст песни и Перевод на русский

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• John Michael Montgomery
• Letters From Home (Warner Bros.'04) - Синглы / Single_s

Warner Bros., 2004, USA

Самый знаменитый трек об американском вторжении в Ирак. Текст написан в форме писем солдату из дома о том, как мать грустит на кухне, переживая за сына, отец же гордится своим #sоldiеr'ом, который не боится испачкать ботинки (кровью). Как пишет большинство комментаторов под клипом на песню: \"мой брат (сын, друг, бойфренд, муж, etc.), слыша эту мелодию, запирается в комнате, пьет и плачет\".

|| #VVаr ||
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X75sVw0xH2c

My Dear Son, it's almost June
I hope this letter catches up with you, and finds you well
It's been dry, but they’re calling for rain
And everything's the same ol' same in Johnsonville
Your stubborn ol' Daddy ain't said too much
But I'm sure you know he sends his love
And she goes on
In a letter from home

I hold it up and show my buddies
Like we ain't scared and our boots ain't muddy
And they all laugh like there's something funny
'Bout the way I talk
When I say \"Mama sends her best, y’all\"
I fold it up and put it in my shirt
Pick up my gun and get back to work
And it keeps me driving me on
Waiting on
Letters from home

My Dearest Love, it's almost dawn
I've been lying here all night long
Wondering where you might be
I saw your mama and I showed her the ring
Man, on the television said something
So I couldn’t sleep
But I'll be all right, I'm just missing you
And this is me kissing you
X's and O's
In a letter from home

I hold it up and show my buddies
Like we ain't scared
And our boots ain't muddy
And they all laugh cause she calls me Honey
But they take it hard
Cause I don't read the good parts
I fold it up and put it in my shirt
Pick up my gun and get back to work
And it keeps me driving me on
Waiting on
Letters from home

Dear Son, I know I ain't written
But sittin here tonight alone in the kitchen
It occurs to me
I might not have said it, so I'll say it now..
Son, you make me proud

I hold it up and show my buddies
Like we ain't scared and our boots ain't muddy
But no one laughs
Cause there ain’t nothing funny
When a soldier cries
And I just whipe my eyes
I fold it up and put it in my shirt
Pick up my gun and get back to work
And it keeps me driving me on
Waiting on
Letters from home

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