Yes
He's home then?
Yes
Well you must be pleased.
Good day to you missis.
Home all right is he?
Yes
Good show, good day to you ma'am
I hear he's home
Yes
That's nice, good morning to you missis.
Yes, he's home
Well part of him
But you can't say that, can you?
To them that ask.
Not like that
To them that ask.
Feeling better is he?
Yes
That's nice to hear, good evening to you missus.
Up and about is he?
Yes
Splendid, good evening to you missus.
Soon mended 'eh?
Yes
That's right, good evening to you missus.
Yes, he is feeling something
And maybe he is mending.
But you can't say that
Can you?
Not to them that ask.
Where's that lad of yours?
Still sitting home?
Yes
Good day to you then.
What's wrong with your boy?
Still poorly?
Yes
Well good day then.
Haven't seen your lad since he came home
Must be getting underfoot.
Yes
He needs a shaking up that lad
Good day to you.
But he's had his shaking up
My lad.
But you can't say that, can you,
Not to them that ask.
A letter came
By afternoon post
From the major.
An invitation, proper like,
Dedication of war memorial
Sunday next.
When I showed him he said
Tell them I'm still poorly mum.
Not myself as yet.
But I can't say that
Can I?
Not to him who asked.
I let him have it then I did,
Fair lost my temper good.
You should be bloody grateful son
You're home, and not some bleeding poor sod's name
Carved on that bleeding stone.
He turned his face to me,
I still see his tears.
I'm not home mum, he said,
I'm never coming home
My bones are rotting at the Somme.
And I'm never coming home.
But you can't say that
Can you?
Not to those who ask.
