We need to talk. I know you don't want to hear it

But you've been home for seven months, you’re still a thousand miles away

So be here now, we can work this through together

‘Cause if we don’t do something, I can’t face another day

And I know this war has changed you, that’s understood

But there’s no way to turn back time and even if we could



I don’t want you to be who you were; that man is gone, I understand

But I need you to be who you are; that man’s right here, come take my hand

And I’ll stand beside you as we find out just who we’re going to be



I need you to be strong – strong enough to let me help you

Help you come back from that battle and here into our home

There’s bodies everywhere, you’re convinced that I can’t see them

But I can see you step around them when you think that you’re alone

You’re carrying your pain around, it’s like a loaded gun

And one more beer won’t drown the fire that’s raging through our home



I don’t want you to be who you were; that man is gone, I understand

But I need you to be who you are; that man’s right here, come take my hand

And I’ll stand beside you as we find out just who we’re going to



And I don’t know what it’s like to have to march straight into hell

But you don’t know what it’s like to watch you do this to yourself

You didn’t come home a statistic, and I won’t let you become one

You don’t have to tell me all you saw, but trust me babe

you gotta tell someone



You’re not alone, not in this home

No, you’re never alone, no, you’re never alone

So please come home

Vocals - Elisa Smith
Guitar - Sean Coleman
Guitar - Bill Danylik
Guitar/Pedal Steel - Rich Hinman
Keys - Brad Goff
Bass - Sean McLaughlin
Drums - Mike Levesque

Behind the Song:
"This song is near and dear to my heart. It’s written from the perspective of a woman whose husband has returned from a tour in Afghanistan and has not dealt with his PTSD. She’s trying to convince him to get help. It’s based on a conversation I had with my wife Susan at an equine therapist in Santa Fe. Susan had a massive stroke when she was in her 30s, and she’s spent a lot of time trying to get back to who she was before. At the end of the trip, I told her, “I don’t want you to be who you were, but I need you to be who you are and I’ll stand by you as we figure out who we’re going to be.” I mentioned that story to Julie Lovely, the director of Wild Hearts Horses for Heroes, a nonprofit organization whose board we were on at the time. Wild Hearts provides equine therapy for veterans with PTSD, which is a cause that hits home for us. Sue’s father was a WWII and Korean War veteran whose untreated PTSD largely defined her childhood. Julie asked if I could deliver a speech to the soldiers and their families using that theme of letting go of who you were and learning to be who you are. It went over very well, so I decided it might be able to reach a larger audience if I turned it into a song. I played it for a friend who did a tour in Afghanistan, and his wife said, “It’s like you had a tape recorder in our kitchen.” Of all the songs on this album, this is the one I hope finds it way into people’s hearts and gives them the ability to have some difficult conversations that lead to healing."