Remember the morning we dug up your gun?

The worms in the barrel, the hanging sun

Those first nervous evenings of perfume and gin

The lost smell on your breath as I helped you get it in

The rush of your lips, the feel of your name

The beat in your heart, the devil's arcade

You said, "Heroes are needed, so heroes get made"

Somebody made a bet. Somebody paid

The cool desert morning and nothing to save

Just metal and plastic where your body caved

The slow games of poker with Lieutenant Ray

In the ward with the blue walls; a sea with no name

Where you lie adrift with the heroes of the devil's arcade

You sleep and dream your buddies Charlie and Jim

And wake with a thick desert dust on your skin

Voice says, "Don't worry, I'm here

Just whisper the word tomorrow in my ear"

House on a quiet street; a home for the brave

A glorious kingdom with the sun on your face

Rising from a long night as dark as the grave

On a thin chain of next moments and something like faith

On a morning to order, a breakfast to make

A bed draped in sunshine, a body that waits

For the touch of your fingers, the end of the day

The beat of your heart, the beat of your heart

The beat of your heart, the beat of your heart

The beat of your heart, the beat of her heart

The beat of your heart, the slow burning away

Of the bitter fires of the devil's arcade