Postcard From Hell Songtext
von Josh Woodward

The long-empty spot in this old parking lot
With a six-pack of Mexican beer
And you′re finally here, you're finally here

We sprawl on the hood, and drink more than we should
And watch clouds in the distance collide
How they join and divide

In just half a day I′ll be flying away
With the 21st Regiment B., over the sea

They'll give me a gun and here you go, son
Let's make sure that the good guys all win

There′s no room for greed with a country in need
And I know you don′t want me to leave, but you've gotta believe
They take what they need

No, I don′t know the reason we go, but then, what do I know?
I'm just a farmboy from East Benton Ridge
Yeah, from East Benton Ridge

There′s plenty of guys who are smarter than I
Who have told us that we need to fight
So it's gotta be right


When I get to the spot where the men are just shells
And the whole world is cracked like the Liberty Bell
I′ll send you a postcard from hell

The burden was mine, so I signed on the line
And they gave me a number and rank
And I promise my dear, I will write you this year
When my mind's in a dark shade of blank
Yeah, I will send you a postcard from hell

Now you're falling asleep on the hood of my Jeep
And you′re burrowed to hide your sad frown
While the sun′s going down, on this desolate town

Take a good look at this picture you took
And remember my face while I'm gone
It won′t be too long

I'll be back next May if this war goes away
And I hope I can stay for awhile

When I get to the spot where the men are just shells
And when the whole world is cracked like the Liberty Bell
And the faces stare back with a plan of attack
And the voices have stopped and the boys have all fell
I′ll send you a postcard from hell