(Oh Lord let it be the last foxhole) He lived by my side on an Island in the sea A place called Okeinawa and just like me He was fighting in the army against Japan Our home was a foxhole made of clay blood and sand (The last foxhole oh the last foxhole oh Lord let it be the last foxhole)
Soon the war was over and we went our seperate ways He went home to Brooklyn but in the army I chose to stay Now he often wrote me the letters and told me about his fears When his son became a man would he had to live (The last foxhole oh the last foxhole oh Lord let it be the last foxhole)
Then came Korea they sent my company And that same Brooklyn boy right back with me But I left him there in the grave deep and cold They just covered him up in his last foxhole (The last foxhole oh the last foxhole oh Lord let it be the last foxhole)
Well the years went by now here I am in another foxhole in VietNam And there's a boy from Brooklyn behind a gun They couldn't send his daddy so they sent his son (Oh the last foxhole oh the last foxhole oh Lord let it be the last foxhole)