|He brought the war home with him.|Still got sand in his boots.|He's wrestling with the demons and the cold hard truth.|And something ain't right about him.|He came back different.|Something in his eyes said he'd seen too much,|Something in his leg said he'd had enough.||Heroes, everybody needs heroes.|Even heroes need a little help.|Heroes can't always be heroes.|Who's gonna save the hero from himself?||He had a picture from Baghdad, with him and hos buddies.|They're just horsin' around, gettin' ready.|One by one, he watched them die.|Just scared kids and he don't know why.|He's the only one to make it out alive.||Heroes, everybody needs heroes.|Even heroes need a little help.|Heroes can't always be heroes.|Who's gonna save the hero from himself?||Ten thousand clicks away in his head|He could smell the smoke, he could smell the dead|A silver star and a pistol in a drawer|Morphine just ain't working no more.||Heroes, everybody needs heroes.|Even heroes need a little help.|Heroes can't always be heroes.|Who's gonna save the hero from himself?| Publisher: TRAVELLERS HOLLOW MUSIC
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