She walked to the mailbox, on that bright summer's day
Found a letter from her son, in a war far away.
He spoke of the weather, and good friends that he'd made.
Said I been thinking 'bout dad and the life that he had, that's why I'm here today.
Then at the end, he said, you are what I'm fighting for.
It was the first of his letters from war.
She started writing, you're good and you're brave, what a father that you'll be someday
Make it home; make it safe, she wrote every night as she prayed.
And late in December, a day she'll not forget.
Oh, the tears stained the paper, with every word, that she read
It said I was up on a hill, I was out there alone
when the shot all rang out, and bombs were exploding.
That's when I saw him he came back for me, and thou he was captured, a man set me free
and that man was your son, he ask me to write to you, I told him I would, oh I swore.
It was the last of the letters from war.
And she pray he was living, and kept on believing, and wrote every night just to say.
You are good and you're brave, what a father that you'll be someday
Make it home make it safe, still she kept writing each day
And then two years later, autumn leaves all around.
A car pulled in the driveway, and she fell to the ground.
And out stepped a captain, where her boy used to stand.
He said mom I'm following orders, from all of your letters and I've come home again.
He ran in to hold her, and dropped all his bags on the floor
Holding all of her letters from war
Bring him home
Bring him home
Bring him home
