Eight Pieces of Steel (Chapter 12)

The sterile white is blinding when you open your eyes No desert sand, no ringing ears, no burning Iraqi skies Just the smell of antiseptic and a heavy hospital bed And the memory of a blast wave tearing through your head And I’m carrying eight pieces of steel in my chest Eight reminders that I didn’t pass the final test The wheelchair turns down the long, quiet floor And my heart stops beating when my parents walk through the door Yeah, the shrapnel stays inside Buried deep under the pride Eight pieces of steel. The shoulder won’t move, the vest doesn’t fit But the army keeps telling you you’re not done with it Try to stand up straight, try to play the part again But the steel in your body says you’ll never be the same. And I’m carrying eight pieces of steel in my chest Eight reminders that I didn’t pass the final test The wheelchair turns down the long, quiet floor And my heart stops beating when my parents walk through the door Yeah, the shrapnel stays inside Buried deep under the pride Eight pieces of steel.