When these boots return from foreign lands
Covered with worn in dirt and desert sand
Tattered and worn down as the look in my eyes
May you be there, patiently awaiting my
Hopeful return from distant soil and raging seas
May you be there, waiting for me
My uniform faded from days under the sun on continents that are not my own
May you be there, waiting safe at home
My hands worn and rough as leather, but still as gentle as you remember
May you be there, after this long venture
Comes to a close
May you be there, you're all I long to hold
May you be there, should I ever make it home...