Black Letter - Gene Vincent

The postman delivered a letter

And it fills her two hands full of joy

For she did’n’t know, what should there be inside

It was the last one from her darlin' boy

Dear mom, was the way that it started

Lord, I miss you so much, I didn’t know

But mom, I didn’t know, that I loved you so

But I’ll prove it when this war is won

But I’m writing this letter down in the trench, ma

And don’t you scold if the writin’s, if the writin’s not so neat

Don’t scold as you did when I was kid

When I come home with mud on my feet

Well, the old mother’s han started trembling

They trembled with shame that’s not known

And the tears, then they came but they came on a shame

For the letter was signed with no name

That night as she knelt by her bedside

She prayed to the God up above

She said: «God, don’t you see what my boy meant to me

But dear God, keep America free»