Confusion Across the Miles
Across the miles a conversation,
Stress mounting in your voice,
Your stomach is in knots,
Thinking I might have a choice.
To most the homecoming of a soldier,
Is more than a burdensome feat,
Somehow that memo was lost in your stack,
You think it not to be sweet.
What am I to return to,
You do this to me every time,
Should I go on as if nothing was said,
But then are you still guilty of your crime.
You're tired of how I run my life,
Yet you tell me that it is my own,
I hear over and over that I am doing wrong,
But shouldn't I reap what I've sewn?
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