The hardest part of letting go is knowing nothing will ever change
no matter how far my body wanders, my heart refuses to pull away.
It’s been warped and contused by the beauty of this black hole love,
the further I fell in, the slower I seemed to come apart.

I buried myself inside your false comfort, your arms became my tomb.
You were a fitting final resting place, my bones, yours to exhume.
But I’ve died so many times in the absence of your touch,
that I’ve resigned myself to a life alone, abandoned in the dust.

And I can’t convince myself, that I wouldn’t do it all with you again
just promise me that we’ll forget each other before the end, my friend.

The homesick heart of a war driven soldier
beats to the sound of shrapnel.
Smoke and death fills his lungs,
The land stinks of blood and spent ammunition.

He wakes in his bed, half a century and a thousand miles away,
covered in the sweat of war. His wife long gone,
offers comfort from her side of the bed.
Even her ghost can’t quell him.

Fifty years a soldier,
Could never shake these hounds of war
and they come around to remind him.
Fill his head and heart with a sorrow, no man should bear alone.

Just because it didn’t **** him,
it doesn’t mean he didn’t give his life.