It was a snowy winter afternoon.
Her baby in his cradle for a nap.
Her husband would be coming back home soon.
From battle in some place upon some map.

The knock that she now answers at the door
Reveals a chaplain standing in the cold.
Her knees give out as she falls to the floor
Before his dreaded message can be told.

The chaplain gently helps her to a chair;
Some dog tags he then places in her hand;
Together they both share a simple prayer,
And try their very best to understand.

Each day she'd offered up a heartfelt prayer
That in this hated war he'd be all right,
But now she asks, "Is there a god up there?"
And she will pray again, but not tonight.

She takes her newborn baby to her breast
And cannot stop the flow of bitter tears.
She curses all the weak and those oppressed
Her country has protected all these years.

So many nights she feared there'd come a day
When dreaded news like this would come to light.
When next she'll close her eyes, she cannot say.
She knows that sleep will come, but not tonight.

Those dog tags that he wore with so much pride
While fighting for some country's human rights
Will hang beside the stand at her bedside,
Reminding her of him, those lonely nights.

No longer will she share that wedding bed
Secure within his strong and warm embrace.
But now she'll sleep there all alone instead,
With only tear filled mem'ries in his place.

And in the future, on some distant day,
When she can put those dog tags out of sight,
And all those dreadful nightmares go away,
She'll get on with her life, but not tonight.