"Happy birthday, my son."
"If only I could've help you." - Iroh
Leaves from the vine
Falling so slow
Like fragile, tiny shells
Drifting in the foam.
Little soldier boy
Comes marching home
Brave soldier boy
Comes marching home
Ash in the snow
Falling so slow
Like fragile, broken hearts
With no place to go.
Little soldier boy
Comes marching home
Brave soldier boy
Comes marching home
He thought he knew
What he was fighting for,
But the sight of blood
Made him question war.
Poor soldier boy
Cold and alone,
Bombs fall like rain,
He's all alone.
They're all alone.
Those leaves did grow
From branches overgrown
Drifting slowly down
Resting in the snow.
Little soldier boy
Taken from home
Forced to fight a war
That is not his own.
Leaves from the vine
Changing so slow
Like empty, fallen souls
Looking for a home.
Little soldier boy
Thought that he could soar
Brave soldier boy
Died in their war
