My youngest son came home today
His friends marched with him all the way
The fife and drum beat out the time
While in his box of polished pine
Like dead meat on a butcher's tray
My youngest son same home today

My youngest son was a fine young man
With a wife, a daughter and two sons
And a man he would have lived and died
Till by a bullet sanctified
Now he's a saint or so they say
They brought their young saint home today

An Irish sky looks down and weeps
Upon the narrow Belfast streets
At children's blood in gutters spilled
In dreams of glory unfulfilled
As part of freedom's price to pay
My youngest son came home today

My youngest son came home today
His friends marched with him all the way
The pipe and drum beat out the time
While in his box of polished pine
Like dead meat on a butcher's tray
My youngest son came home today
And this time he's here to stay

Words and music: Eric Bogle

My Old Flamegl You Get Around Muero En El Alcohol WINTER Carey If My Heart Had Windows Arme Joe Hook Me Up Johnny Came Home Headless If I Had My Way Worthy To Say Similar to Rain You've Got Everything Now Rosie What Make's The World Go Round Paradise FATIGUEE D'ATTENDRE T.V. Rainy Day A Sailors Life The Door Into Summer Sunday ITALIAN GIRLS In The End (I Choose You)

Worldspinning Killer Of My Dreams Funny Modern Girl Door to Door The World Made End If I Don't Stay The Night I PROMISE YOU Playas Gon' Play Under Your Skin You'll Be The One Who'll Lose Mijn Vlakke Land This Is The LIfe Love's Gonna Get Cha' (Material Love) Say Anything Oceans Not My Slave You're Gonna Leave Me Again Murder in Technicolor Talkin' Return Of The Great Folk Scare Blues Piggy Hill M.O.B. Aura Nejvic Se Klara Tesi Na Nedeli