Every Saturday his mother places a fresh bunch of flowers on his grave
And kneels and prays for the son who in war did die brave
And though he has been deceased for many years
Memories of him do reduce her to tears
In life she is one without luck on her side
When their son was a child his father her husband in a work accident died
She never again became any man's wife
A woman who has been through so much grief in her life
In her late eighties she lives on her own
The many an up and down of life she is one who has known
Deprived of any hope of grandchildren on the death of her son
There are many lives lost for a war to be won
Every Saturday she places flowers and kneels for to pray
On the grave where her husband and their only child lay.
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