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The first time it was fathers
The last time it was sons
And in between your husbands marched away with drums and guns
And you never thought to question
You just went on with your lives
'Cause all they taught you who to be, was mothers, daughters, wives
And you believed them

You can only just remember the tears your mothers shed
As they sat and read their papers through the lists and lists of dead
And the gold frames held the photographs
That your mothers kissed each night
And the door frames held the shocked and silent strangers from the fight
And you received them

It was twenty one years later, with children of your own
The trumpets sounded once again, and the soldier boys were gone
And you drove their trucks and made their guns and tended to their wounds
And at night you kissed their photographs and prayed for safe returns

And after it was over you had to learn again
To be just wives and mothers, when you'd done the work of men
So you worked to help the needy and you never trod on toes
And the photos on the pianos struck a happy family pose
So deceiving

Then your daughters grew to women and your little boys to men
And you prayed that you were dreaming when the call came up again
But you proudly smiled and held your tears as they bravely waved goodbye
And the photos on the mantel pieces always made you cry

And now you're getting older and in time the photos fade
And in widowhood you sit back and reflect on the parade
Of the passing of your memories as your daughters change their lives
Seeing more to our existence than just mothers, daughters, wives

The first time it was fathers
The last time it was sons
And in between your husbands marched away with drums and guns
And you never thought to question
You just went on with your lives
'Cause all they taught you who to be, was mothers, daughters, wives