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?