Every Night I Go Back

(Verse 1) I light a cigarette with shaky hands, Pour another glass, try to make a stand Against the ghosts that come with the moon, But they show up early, and they don’t leave soon. There’s dust in my lungs, though I ain’t been there In over a decade—still, it’s in the air. And the cold cuts deep like a mountain blade, Where the silence screamed and we all prayed. ⸻ (Chorus) Every night I go back, whether I want to or not, To the hills of Hell and the sun that forgot. There’s sand in my sheets, there’s snow in my blood, And whiskey won’t wash away what I was. I see their faces in the smoke and the sky, Laughing and bleeding, saying their goodbyes. And I wonder, Lord, if I’m losing my mind— Or if I just never made it out alive. ⸻ (Verse 2) Tried to drown it all with rum and rain, But liquor don’t scrub out a brother’s name. I still hear the radio, that static dread, “Contact left,” then silence, then they’re dead. There’s a picture in a drawer I don’t dare touch, Of a kid from Georgia, man, I miss him so much. He said, “Tell my mom I’m doing fine,” Now I see him every damn time I close my eyes. ⸻ (Chorus) Every night I go back, whether I want to or not, To the hills of Hell and the sun that forgot. There’s sand in my sheets, there’s snow in my blood, And whiskey won’t wash away what I was. I see their faces in the smoke and the sky, Laughing and bleeding, saying their goodbyes. And I wonder, Lord, if I’m losing my mind— Or if I just never made it out alive. ⸻ (Bridge) They said, “Welcome home,” but this ain’t home, Not when your soul’s still on patrol alone. I shake and I sweat through these cotton sheets, While the war still marches in my heartbeat. ⸻ (Chorus – Stripped Back) Every night I go back, whether I want to or not, To the firefights and the brothers I lost. There’s sand in my sheets, there’s snow in my blood, And nothing on Earth can undo what it does. I see their faces, and it cuts like a knife, And I’m scared I’m just living their borrowed life. Yeah, I wonder, Lord, if I’m losing my mind— Or if I just never made it out alive. ⸻ (Outro) So I sip that bottle slow, and I don’t make a sound, While the war keeps draggin’ me back down. I ain’t sure what’s real, but I know one thing’s true— I’d take their place if I only knew… That comin’ home wouldn’t feel like losin’ you.