Vídeo da música
Vídeo da música
Créditos
INTERPRETAÇÃO
Trace Adkins
Interpretação
Aubrey Haynie
Fiddle
Bryan Sutton
Violão
Eric Darken
Percussão
Jerry Troy Corenflos
Guitarra elétrica
Jim "Moose" Brown
Piano
Mike Brignardello
Baixo
Mike Johnson
Dobro
Pat Buchanan
Guitarra elétrica
Paul Franklin
Guitarra elétrica
Shannon Forrest
Bateria
West Point Cadet Glee Club
Coral
COMPOSIÇÃO E LETRA
Rob Crosby
Composição
Doug Johnson
Composição
David Huntsinger
Arranjos
PRODUÇÃO E ENGENHARIA
Frank Rogers
Produção
Brady Barnett
Engenharia (edição)
Brian David Willis
Engenharia (edição)
Chris Latham
Engenharia (overdub)
Justin Niebank
Engenharia (mixagem)
Neal Cappellino
Engenharia (overdub)
Richard Barrow
Engenharia (overdub)
Tyler Moles
Engenharia (edição)
Letra
[Verse 1]
I was there in the winter of '64
When we camped in the ice at Nashville's door
Three hundred miles our trail had lead
We barely had time to bury our dead
When the Yankees charged and the colors fell
Overton Hill was a livin' hell
When we called retreat, it was almost dark
I died with a grapeshot in my heart
[Verse 2]
Say a prayer for peace
For every fallen son
Set my spirit free
Let me lay down my gun
Sweet Mother Mary, I'm so tired
But I can't come home til the last shot's fired
[Verse 3]
In June of 1944
I waded in the blood of Omaha's shores
Twenty-one and scared to death
My heart poundin' in my chest
I almost made the first seawall
When my friends turned and saw me fall
I still smell the smoke, I can taste the mud
As I lay there dyin' from a loss of blood
[Verse 4]
Say a prayer for peace
For every fallen son
Set my spirit free
Let me lay down my gun
Sweet Mother Mary, I'm so tired
But I can't come home til the last shot's fired
[Verse 5]
I'm in the fields of Vietnam
The mountains of Afghanistan
And I'm still hopin', waitin', prayin'
I did not die in vain
[Verse 6]
Say a prayer for peace
For every fallen son
Set our spirits free
Let us lay down our guns
Sweet Mother Mary, we're so tired
But we can't come home til the last shot's fired
[Verse 7]
Til the last shot's fired
[Verse 8]
(Say a prayer for peace, for peace)
(For our daughters and our sons)
(Set our spirits free, set us free)
(Let us lay down our guns)
Sweet Mother Mary, we're so tired (Ooh)
But we can't come home (No, we can't come home)
(Til the last shot's fired)
Written by: Doug Johnson, Rob Crosby