September the second, two thousand seventeen
That's your discharge date, etched in your soul
It's been nearly two years now, gone by so fast
Like the fast food restaurants they built while you were away
Pull into the drive-thru, speak into a box
Discard the paper wrappers when you're through
These people can't comprehend the choices you made
So you don't tell them a thing
Unproud warrior
Unproud warrior
Unproud warrior
You made your house your own
Some blame their actions on their government
It's all orders for these lily-white comrades
They hang up their guns on a nail of rosewater
And participate in their grandson's parade
But you know you had more choices than they let on
A soldier is not a cog, but a man, like any other
These thoughts you revisit every time you turn on a movie
And see a depiction that is far from your own experience
Unproud warrior
Unproud warrior
Unproud warrior
You made your choice alone
You were only seventeen when you enlisted, you remember
SE Hinton wrote The Outsiders when she was just fifteen
Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein when she was nineteen
At twenty-three, Stephen Crane published The Red Badge Of Courage
Which is still known as one of the most realistic depictions of war
Even though Crane was born after the Civil War ended
Maybe sentiments of regret are not all that unrelatable
You've always taken lengths to be aware of your own choice
Unproud warrior
Unproud warrior
Unproud warrior
You built your house alone
Unproud warrior
Unproud warrior
Unproud warrior
You made your house your own