My Dear Son, it is almost June,
I hope this letter catches up to you, and finds you well.
Its been dry but they´re calling for rain,
And everything´s the same ol´ same in Johnsonville.
Your stubborn ´ol Daddy ain´t said too much,
But I´m sure you know he sends his love,
And she goes on,
In a letter from home.

I hold it up and show my buddies,
Like we ain´t scared and our boots ain´t muddy, and they all laugh,
Like there´s something funny bout´ the way I talk,
When I say: "Mama sends her best y´all."
I fold it up an´ put it in my shirt,
Pick up my gun an´ get back to work.
An´ it keeps me driving me on,
Waiting on letters from home.

My Dearest Love, its almost dawn.
I´ve been lying here all night long wondering where you might be.
I saw your Mama and I showed her the ring.
Man on the television said something so I couldn´t sleep.
But I´ll be all right, I´m just missing you.
An´ this is me kissing you:
XX´s and OO´s,
In a letter from home.

I hold it up and show my buddies,
Like we ain´t scared and our boots ain´t muddy, and they all laugh,
´Cause she calls me "Honey", but they take it hard,
´Cause I don´t read the good parts.
I fold it up an´ put it in my shirt,
Pick up my gun an´ get back to work.
An´ it keeps me driving me on,
Waiting on letters from home.

Dear Son, I know I ain´t written,
But sittin´ here tonight, alone in the kitchen, it occurs to me,
I might not have said, so I´ll say it now:
Son, you make me proud.

I hold it up and show my buddies,
Like we ain´t scared and our boots ain´t muddy, but no one laughs,
´Cause there ain´t nothing funny when a soldier cries.
An´ I just wipe me eyes.
I fold it up an´ put it in my shirt,
Pick up my gun an´ get back to work.
An´ it keeps me driving me on,
Waiting on letters from home.