"My Son John" Lyrics

My son John was tall and slim
He had a leg for ev'ry limb.
But now he's got no legs at all
For he ran a race with a cannon ball,
He ran a race with a cannon ball.

Jack the lad, he went off to war,
Waved bye-bye as he ran out the door.
Says 'bye bye John when I see you again,
You'll be back from Iraq, from Afghanistan, from the Taliban,
You'll be back from Iraq and Afghanistan.

I sat down on the shore,
For the space of seven long years or more
Till a big transport come across the sky,
I shouted aloud, 'clear the way, clear the way'.
I shouted aloud, 'clear the way, clear the way'.

I shouted aloud till the Captain said,
'Are you here with the living, are you back with the dead?'
Do you see anything of my son John?
Is the boy living or is he gone, is he gone?
Is the poor boy living or is he gone?

Up comes John and he's got no legs,
Got carbon fibre blades instead.
She smiled, she kissed him over the lore,
Bet you run quicker than you did before, did before.
Bet you run quicker than you did before.

Well were you deaf, were you blind,
When you left your own two legs behind?
Or did you go walking along the sea,
To shrink your two legs right down to the knee, down to the knee.
To shrink your two legs right down to the knee.

No I wasn't deaf, I was not blind,
When I left my own two legs behind.
But a thundering landmine jumped in the way
Wore these legs right down to the knee, down to the knee.
Wore these legs right down to the knee.

I was tall, I was slim,
I had a leg for ev'ry limb.
The chicken-hawk come knocking at the door,
Call for Britannia, call for war, she calls for war
Call Britannia, call for war.

Call Britannia, call for war,
when all those chicken-hawks stood at the door.
.....
You better run a mile from the harvest home, the harvest home.
You better run a mile from the harvest home.

My son John was tall and slim
He had a leg for ev'ry limb.
But now he's got no legs at all
For he ran a race with a cannon ball,
He ran a race with a cannon ball.