One Man & His Dog

I know a dear old pensioner, who lives with his little dog.
They occupy a big old house, complete with an outside bog.
A sad and lonely soldier, he’s ignored by all the rest.
He sits at home and polishes the medals on his chest.
He worries about the future, and he dreams about he past.
The kids have grown, he’s all alone, and the years go by so fast.
He has a thought — a feeling deep inside.
He thinks about the ones he loved, the ones who fought and died.
How many hearts buried in the fields among the lost forgotten souls,
time will never heal?
It was raining nuts and bolts the day the fell in love.
His hands were in his pockets, but his heart was high above.
He took her home to meet his mum on a Saturday afternoon.
They messed about but war broke out seven years too soon.
He worries about the future, and he dreams about the past.
The kids have grown, he’s all alone, and the years go by so fast.
He has a thought — a feeling deep inside.
He thinks about the ones he loved, the ones who fought and died.
How many hearts buried in the fields among the lost forgotten souls,
time will never heal?
So don’t forget that pensioner who lives with his little dog.
They occupy a big old house, complete with an outside bog.
He’s a sad and lonely soldier, he’s ignored like all the rest.
He sits at home and polishes the medals on his chest.