The Battle Home

Nobody wants to be the bearer of the name.
Nobody wants to be the player of the game.
Nobody dares to face the fact we're not the same.
Nobody lives but living every day.

I didn't give up, I only took it underground
Where I could keep myself collected safe & sound,
But, in the end, my thoughts would always slow me down.
Morning would break and I'd be all alone

Tell me do you believe this is the battle Home
Battle Home, Battle Home
Do what it takes to make it in the danger zone
All alone; all alone
All alone.

When I look back I wonder if it was your fault.
Would I have died or joined in some religious cult?
Wouldn't my life have happened to a screeching halt?
Now that you're gone I know the answer's yes.
Didn't I say, the answer's always yes.

Stepping into the gridlock of a thousand feet,
People collide, deciding not to take the street.
Everyone hears the drummer and the Old-School Beat.
Nobody sees him take it all inside.
Letting it fall and rip the city wide
(chorus)

©1997 Joe Matzzie

Ian the Sax player calls this "The Battle Home of the Republic"