The Part They Don't See

I learned real fast how quiet fear can get. Halfway around the

world with a flag on my chest. Sunday night prayers in a dusty

tent. Thinking about a girl back home I ain't held yet.

She was learning how to be strong on her own, while I was

learning how to survive. 'Cause they don't see her of late

with the bills unpaid, or the kids asking, "Why daddy's gone

again?" They thank me for my service, shake my hand on

the street. But they don't see the war that waited on me.