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In all the movies I've ever seen and all the books I've read
No hero has ever grown old, dying peaceful in their bed
Our hero is always gone in every telling of our story
Riding off into the sunset or falling in a blaze of glory
Whether they be classic heroes that ride a fiery steed
Who saves the day out numbered by conviction and by creed
Or the anti hero with wander lust, the hero in us all
Who, like David against Goliath, rise courageous to the call
No hero can be a hero til they're fired to purification
And carry the golden wings of human aspiration
If the enemy is great and worthy and the hero be but true
Then in the end it matters little if our hero sees it through
And should our hero die in battle then hero he'll always be
A monument far greater than the mountains and the sea
But if the dust has settled, and our hero claims the day
We must end his story there as he slowly rides away
Some men rise to heroes and heroes then to legend
He would only break our hearts to be just a man again

Learn more about this author, Jason Billingsley.
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