[Section 1 – The Grandfather, WW2 Era] Grandpa came back quiet, shaped by engines, steel, and fire. Crossed the Channel as a young man, into France with a young man’s desire. Saw convoys rolling through the rubble, infantry keeping to the armor’s line. Kept his medals in a drawer at home, as stories turned to legend over time. The last push into Germany, felt like dawn breaking over night. Not triumph, just the knowing they were setting something right. He never raised his voice about it, lived his life with quiet faith, but he told his boy a little more, the day that draft card came. [Chorus 1] And that’s the call he answered, passed from father down to son. Different wars, the same old question: Who are we when the battle’s won? [Section 2 -The Father, Vietnam Era] My father bore a burden, long before I ever knew his face. He carried things he never spoke of, From a far off time and place. He’d fired from jungle ridgelines, monsoon rain soaking through his pack. Came home to blame he didn’t earn, and he never quite came back. He said sleep would slip away most nights, and some choices never sat quite right. Said he’d carried guilt from one bad fight, and it’s haunted him his whole damn life. Said the war was far behind him, but it never stayed away. And he warned me in his quiet way, about things recruiters never say. [Chorus 2] And that’s the call he answered, passed from father down to son. Different wars, the same old question: Who are we when the war is done? [Section 3 – The Son, The Modern Era] Graduated with no clear road, college slipping through my hands. They were still recovering from 08, So I signed on for a steadier plan. Started out on quiet missions, tracking things that left no trace. Most days the work was distance, just a screen between me and the place. I remember when the news came ‘cross the wires, And every face came rushing back, with blast‑scarred dirt from those high-pass tracks. Spent nights watching distant fires, while my newborn slept at home. But this is the life I choose to carry, still awake while the world sleeps on. [Chorus 3] And that’s the call we answered, passed from father down to son. Different wars, the same old question: Who are we when it’s all said and done? [Outtro – The Next Generation] My daughter asks about the future she’ll see, eyes wide with all she hopes to be, I hope her road leads somewhere bright and free, open as the sky that carries me...
