Where My Heart Belongs My heart belongs to a soldier or at least that's the way I feel; for you see, I can see him there wishing he were home for real. Chowing down with a family pic ain't near as good as being home just the next best thing to it... for that soldier sick of feeling alone. Sure, his buddies are with him, too; but it's just not the same, somehow, for a soldier doing what he's gotta do for me and you, in the here and now. Then there's the future he's fightin' for but not for just we folk, don't you see... there's all those on that distant shore who don't know the meaning of liberty. Oh, can't you see, I can hear him there offering up a prayer for those he loves, while he's out doing his job somewhere; while here, hawks do battle with doves. Yes, my heart belongs to the one alone who just sits there staring at his plate... picking at his food, wishing he was home, half-remembering what it was he just ate. But God's great ocean is much too wide and exploding bombs are a breath away... too far...too close...for family at his side; but who knows, if things pan out...one day! Oh, yes! That day when his time is up, when he's done his duty, washed his hands... passed to the next newbie his warrior's cup, who'll drink from it 'til he, too, understands. War is hell and heaven is but a trip away... all those loving faces smiling back at him. Yes, my heart belongs to a soldier, I say. Which one? Oh, just to each one of them!
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