[Verse 1] Dust was rising from the road, The setting sun burned red, His shield was scarred from distant wars, Long miles lay behind instead. He'd marched beneath a dozen skies, Through bitter cold and rain, But now the hills he knew so well Were coming close again. [Chorus] One more mile, one more hill, One more turn to go, Past the fields and olive trees, Along the old home road. He'd carried Rome through dust and rain, Through lands he'd never known, One more mile, one more hill, And he would soon be home. [Verse 2] He passed the stream where years ago He'd waded as a boy, The olive grove still crowned the hill, A small familiar joy. The old stone marker leaned the same, The fields were turning gold, And every step brought back a tale He thought he'd long outgrown. [Chorus] One more mile, one more hill, One more turn to go, Past the fields and olive trees, Along the old home road. He'd carried Rome through dust and rain, Through lands he'd never known, One more mile, one more hill, And he would soon be home. [Verse 3] He wondered if the vines still climbed The stones beside the door, If supper smoke still curled above The roof he'd known before. Would they behold a soldier now, All weathered from the fight? Or see the boy who'd left that gate One early morning light? [Bridge] He climbed at last the final hill And saw the walls below, The little house beside the road Still caught the evening glow. Then someone hurried to the gate, And raised a hand on high. He knew his mother's face at once— And heard her joyful cry. [Outro] His shield fell heavy in the dust, His spear fell there as well, He ran toward her with open arms As evening shadows fell. No rank, no scars, no soldier's pride, No battles lost or won— For all the years and roads he'd known, He still came home her son.
