With My Shirt On

My dearest son its almost June

I hope this letter catches up with you, and finds you well

its been dry but theyre calling for rain 

and everythings the same old same, in Johnsonville 

your stubborn old daddy aint said too much 

but Im 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 aint scared and are boots aint muddy

and they all laugh like theres something funny bout the way I talk

when I say momma sends her best y'all

I fold it up and put it in my shirt 

pick up my gun and get back to work

and it keeps me drivin on

waitin on, letters from home

My dearest love its almost dawn 

I been lying here all night long

wonderin where you might be

I saw your momma and I showed her the ring 

man on the television said some things, so I couldnt sleep

but Ill be all right I'm just missin' you 

and this is me kissing you 

X's and O's, in a letter from home

I hold it up and show my buddies

like we aint scared and are boots aint muddy

and they all laugh cause she calls me honey 

but they take it hard, cause I dont read the good parts

I fold it up and put it in my shirt 

pick up my gun and get back to work 

and it keeps me drivin on

waitin on, letters from home

Dear son I know I aint written

and sitting here tonight alone in the kitchen it occurs to me 

I might not have said it so Ill say it now

son you make me proud 

I hold it up and show my buddies

like we aint scared and are boots aint muddy

but no one laughs, cause there aint nothing funny when a soldier cries

and I just wipe my eyes

I fold it up and put it in my shirt 

pick up my gun and get back to work 

and it keeps me drivin on 

waitin on, letters from home