Chorus: The first time it was fathers the last time it was sons And in between your husbands marched away with drums and guns And you never thought to question you just went on with your lives 'Cause all they'd taught you who to be was mothers, daughters, wives
You can only just remember the tears your mothers shed As they sat and read the papers through the lists and lists of dead And the gold frames held the photographs that mothers kissed each night And the doorframes held the shocked and silent strangers from the fight
Chorus
And it was twenty-one years later with children of your own The trumpet sounded once again and the soldier boys were gone And you drove their trucks and made their guns and tended to their wounds And at night you kissed their photographs and prayed for safe returns
And after it was over you had to learn again To be just wives and mothers when you'd done the work of men So you worked to help the needy and you never trod on toes And the photos on the pianos struck a happy family pose
Chorus
Then your daughters grew to women and your little boys top men And you prayed that you were dreaming when the call-up came again But you proudly smiled and held your tears as they bravely waved goodbye But the photos on the mantelpieces always made you cry
And now your growing older and in time the photos fade And in widowhood you sit back and reflect on the parade Of the passing of your memories as your daughters change their lives Seeing more to our existence than just mothers, daughters, wives