He comes home and hangs up his gun.
Goes to the parade for all who sang and prayed.
They're happy to see him home as he walks alone.
Those who fought beside him,
Stand by him no longer.
His commander commands no more.
Those who shout are mute.
Tears fall dry down his face,
For he cannot cry; for what he cannot change.
He was a survivor in the troop he was in.
But he knows he didn't survive he died with them.
He hangs up his gun,
And returns his uniform.
He puts his medals away.
But one thing he cannot change.
Is his memories, they will forever stay.
