Similar Songs
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
The Lumineers
Performer
Wesley Schultz
Vocals
Jeremiah Fraites
Drums
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jeremiah Fraites
Songwriter
Maxwell Hughes
Songwriter
Wesley Shultz
Songwriter
Wesley Schultz
Arranger
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
The Lumineers
Producer
Ryan Hewitt
Mixing Engineer
Don Bearie
Recording Engineer
Kevin Clock
Recording Engineer
Kyle Dickey
Recording Engineer
Matt Vinson
Recording Engineer
Dan Shike
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Well, I had a, I had an uncle I never got to meet, his name was Charles
They called him Charlie and when, uh
When Charlie, he was my dad's oldest brother
Anyway, uh, when Charlie was in high school, he had really big plans
He was gonna go on maybe to be a doctor
He had all these grand, grand plans and uh, really smart guy
And he heard JFK, he heard his president, he gave this beautiful speech
And he was so moved by the words of his leader
That he changed his whole future and put it on hold
And he said, uh, I'm gonna serve my country
I'm gonna volunteer to go to war and
I never got to, I never got to meet my uncle because of that choice
You know, because of that choice
But I admire him for that and when I think of my uncle Charlie
I think of this idea that it's the words of our leaders
They really do matter
They mattered to my uncle Charlie back then
They matter to us right now
So this one's for my uncle Charlie, this is about him
Is is called Charlie Boy
[Verse 2]
Charlie boy, don't go to war
First born in '44
And Kennedy made him believe
That we could do much more
Oh, whoa, oh-oh, oh, whoa, oh-oh
[Verse 3]
That's Neyla Pekarek on the cello!
[Verse 4]
And Lillian, don't hang your head
Love should make you feel good
In uniform, you raised a man
Who volunteered to stand
Oh, whoa, oh-oh, oh, whoa, oh-oh
[Verse 5]
And play the bugle and play the taps
And make your mother proud
And raise your rifles to the skies, boys
Fire that volley loud
[Verse 6]
And news was bad on Upland Ave.
Metuchen mourn our loss
And sons rebelled while fathers yelled
And mothers clutched the cross
Oh, whoa, oh-oh, oh, whoa, oh-oh
[Verse 7]
And play the bugle and play the taps
And make your fathers proud
And raise your rifles to the sky
Boy, fire that volley loud
He left
Written by: Jeremiah Fraites, Wesley Schultz