Little Man, Baby Girl

[Verse 1]
Boots by the doorway
Tan line where my ring should be
News on the counter
Talking ’bout another war overseas
I trace the scar on my knuckle
From a fight I didn’t win
Thinkin’ ’bout my granddad’s medals
Locked in mama’s coffee tin
[Chorus]
I wanna be a soldier
For my little man
Teach him how to stand his ground
And use his gentle hands
Wanna be a fortress
For my baby girl
Hold her like a prayer
In a breaking world
If the dark comes closer
And the flags all furl
I’ll be a soldier
For my little man and my baby girl
[Verse 2]
Son’s got a wooden pistol
Drawn-on badge taped to his chest (hey)
He says
“Daddy
Would you miss me
If you had to go out west?”
Daughter’s in the doorway
In her brother’s hand‑me‑down boots
Painting stars on the cardboard
Where he’s drawn a parachute
[Chorus]
I wanna be a soldier
For my little man
Teach him when to hold his fire
When to take a stand
Wanna be a fortress
For my baby girl
Tell her she’s a diamond
In a rusted world
If the night gets louder
And the guns all whirl
I’ll be a soldier
For my little man and my baby girl
[Bridge]
I don’t need a rifle
To walk into the fire
Got a bedtime Bible
Busted truck
And a heart full of wire
When the sirens tremble
Through this quiet town (oh)
I’ll be first to kneel and pray
Last to lay my body down
[Chorus]
I’m gonna be a soldier
For my little man
Show him how to love like mercy
Fight like a gentle man
Gonna be a fortress
For my baby girl
Guard that wild and holy heart
From a mean old world
If the dark runs deeper
And the flags all furl
I’ll die a soldier
For my little man and my baby girl

rock, Dusty alt-country groove with tremolo electric and brushed kit; male vocals worn but resolute. Verses stay intimate and close-mic’d over fingerpicked acoustic and a moaning pedal steel. Choruses open wider with stacked harmonies and a driving, swampy backbeat, organ pads adding a ghostly gothic-Americana halo around the vocal. Final chorus pushes grit and emotion, then drops to a hushed, haunting tag., country rock, country