A little girl waiting on a door bell that never rang
Painting pictures of an angel and all the letters of her father’s name
Too young to understand, not old enough to know
Her hero is not coming home
But the fight has only just begun
To heal the wounds of the ones we love
Another folded flag for freedom
Searching for the light
In the sky of a fallen son
Twenty-one guns and the smeared makeup of her mother’s eyes
A purple heart and a pink carnation lay by his side
Too young to understand that daddy is not asleep
Or know the meaning of his bravery
But the fight has only just begun
To heal the wounds of the ones we love
Another folded flag for freedom
Searching for the light
In the sky of a fallen son
Glory Glory Hallelujah
Glory Glory Hallelujah
Glory Glory Hallelujah