Postcard From Hell - Josh Woodward

The long-empty spot in this old parking lot

With a six-pack of Mexican beer

And you’re finally here, you’re finally here

We sprawl on the hood, and drink more than we should

And watch clouds in the distance collide

How they join and divide

In just half a day I’ll be flying away

With the 21st Regiment B., over the sea

They’ll give me a gun and here you go, son

Let’s make sure that the good guys all win

There’s no room for greed with a country in need

And I know you don’t want me to leave, but you’ve gotta believe

They take what they need

No, I don’t know the reason we go, but then, what do I know?

I’m just a farmboy from East Benton Ridge

Yeah, from East Benton Ridge

There’s plenty of guys who are smarter than I

Who have told us that we need to fight

So it’s gotta be right

When I get to the spot where the men are just shells

And the whole world is cracked like the Liberty Bell

I’ll send you a postcard from hell

The burden was mine, so I signed on the line

And they gave me a number and rank

And I promise my dear, I will write you this year

When my mind’s in a dark shade of blank

Yeah, I will send you a postcard from hell

Now you’re falling asleep on the hood of my Jeep

And you’re burrowed to hide your sad frown

While the sun’s going down, on this desolate town

Take a good look at this picture you took

And remember my face while I’m gone

It won’t be too long

I’ll be back next May if this war goes away

And I hope I can stay for awhile

When I get to the spot where the men are just shells

And when the whole world is cracked like the Liberty Bell

And the faces stare back with a plan of attack

And the voices have stopped and the boys have all fell

I’ll send you a postcard from hell