" Like a wounded soldier
Trudging the old road home,
But I ain’t the old me,
And I walk this path alone.
I’m battle-worn, I’m battle-torn
With these scars inside my chest,
Kept up that happy face for you,
To hide that I’m a mess.

But I gave you every ounce of fight in me,
And I have no regrets.
If I was going to lose you,
At least I lost you to my best.
But it felt so wrong,
So tangled up in blue,
Like that old Dylan song,
Like I don’t know who I am,
Now that you’re gone.

But I lived through the pain.
Now I see the other side.
Now I know that life’s too short
To shut myself down and hide.
I’m battle-torn, but I’m battle-born.
These scars are part of me.
I got nothing left but what I’ve learned,
And I’ll use that, and you’ll see,

I can still give every ounce of fight in me,
Till I have no regrets,
Because if I’m going to lose someone,
I’m gonna lose her to my best.
And I’ll be strong,
When a hard rain’s a-gonna fall,
Like that old Dylan song,
You’re the reason I stand tall,
And that will never be gone. "

― Emery Lord , Open Road Summer