a roar rose from the stands
as the ball flies high into the sky
he competed in the air
and in his grip he held his prize

when he landed on the ground
he slipped and gave the ball away
‘ah the glory days are gone
I must be too old for this game’

and when you sing
no heroes songs
he doesn’t like praise
when you turn he’ll be gone
he only feels shame when
each verse stays the same
and everyone sings
a triumphant refrain

he was only nineteen
and he steadied the gun in his shaking hand
and he crept into the room
with the sergeant by the shaving stand

when his wife screamed in fright
one deep breath and the bullets fly
but he pauses as he leaves on
a child’s trembling hand by the dead man’s side

and when you sing
no heroes songs
he doesn’t like praise
when you turn he’ll be gone
he only feels shame when
each verse stays the same
and everyone sings
a triumphant refrain

it was easier to take
when they’d plied him with drink
and loudly proclaimed
how he gunned the sergeant down
like the heroes of old
so bold and so brave
they stood on the deck
looking out at the coast
as the boat leaves the bay
the widow turns the child away
and they never look back
never return again

I was prince of the sky
I could beat any man
and win, draw or lose sure
we’d always shake hands
but with war and revolution
I could never understand
who really was the winner
what your left with in the end

and the drink had took its toll
waisting away in a hospital bed
and the priest is waved away what humans
hands had corrupted, human hands couldn’t save

he’d given up the fight
left empty and stranded between wrong and right
the nurses didn’t understand
an arm reaching out
to a child’s trembling hand

and when you sing
no heroes songs
he doesn’t like praise
when you turn he’ll be gone
he only feels shame when
each verse stays the same
and everyone sings
a triumphant refrain
and everyone sings
a triumphant refrain
refrain

Words and Music by John Hegarty © 2014