Bullet Holes in the Sky - Mary Gauthier

It’s the eleventh of November down in Nashville, Tennessee

Free breakfast at the waffle house if I show 'em my ID

A parade up on the riverfront, you can hear the trumpets play

Hands on hearts, the color guard kicks it off Veteran’s Day

And they thank me for my service and wave their little flags

They genuflect on Sundays and yes, they’d send us back

But I believe in God and county and in angels up on high

And in heaven shining down on us through bullet holes in the sky

Waitress asks me how I’m doing but I don’t know what to say

I was thinking bout the battlefield the night I learned to pray

Marchers make their way down Main Street the crowd begins to cheer

I feel my chest explode as my eyes fill up tears

And they thank me for my service and wave their little flags

They genuflect on Sundays and yes, they’d send us back

But I believe in God and county and in angels up on high

And in heaven shining down on us through bullet holes in the sky

Oh Jesus said forgive them for they know not what they do

And he’s here with me this morning and his words still ring true

So I hand my head and pray for those we lost and those who remain

As the clouds burst over Nashville it beings to rain

And they thank me for my service and wave their little flags

They genuflect on Sundays and yes, they’d send us back

But I believe in God and county and in angels up on high

And in heaven shining down on us through bullet holes in the sky

And in heaven shining down on us through bullet holes in the sky