Return
HeartSounds Lyrics


Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴  Line by Line Meaning ↴

If he comes back I know just what he'll say: "Let's show this day a proper night and
celebrate!" Long gone the weeks of white lines and punctured veins. The day all generations
cried, "Sign em up! Sign em up! Sign em up! Boy, we're gonna make a man outta you."
"Line me up! Line em up! Line em up! Man, now we're gonna make a ghost of you." He came
back, but he wasn't the same. Sleep showed him nights lit like the day, and life for the take.
I caught him in the morning pulling sandbags from the drain while his imagination
shouted, "Sign em up! Sign em up! Sign em up! Boy, we're gonna make a man outta you."
"Line em up! Line em up! Line em up! Man, now we're gonna make a ghost of you." Remember
when we played Wounded Soldiers? Broken glass and half empty bottles dying fast.




We stayed awake till it was yesterday and long past. But he never really escaped wounded
soldiers, broken glass, and half empty bottles dying fast.

Overall Meaning

The opening of HeartSounds's song Return suggests that the singer is eagerly waiting for the return of someone they know, whom they anticipate is going to say something along the lines of "Let's celebrate and show this day a proper night" upon his arrival. Through the lyrics, it seems that this person has been previously lost in addiction, the "weeks of white lines and punctured veins" implying drug usage, and possibly struggled with post-traumatic stress disorder. The reference to a day all generations cried and then chanting "Sign em up! Sign em up! Sign em up! Boy, we're gonna make a man outta you. Line me up! Line em up! Line em up! Man, now we're gonna make a ghost of you," denotes a sense of forced acceptance into the military, possibly because of the prevailing notion that it would instill discipline, make oneself a man, as well as traumatic experiences that would haunt one for a lifetime. The singer of the song is left to lament that while the person returned, they aren't the same and are struggling to cope with the aftermath of their experiences. The lyrics paint a picture of the singer catching the person in question attempting to do something as mundane as pulling sandbags from the drain, and yet they are plagued by their imagination encouraging them to join the ranks, repeating the same chants as before.


Furthermore, the lyrics describe the singer and the person having played wounded soldier games in the past, involving broken glass and half-emptied bottles that "died fast." This further emphasizes the trauma that they went through, with the singer having moved on while the returning person got stuck in their past trauma. The lyrics seem to be a reflection on the time spent together in their past, how they bonded, and the possibility of their ever returning to that place of joy and freedom. Overall, HeartSounds's Return is a poignant description of the effects of trauma, war, and substance abuse and how they can mark a person's well-being.


Line by Line Meaning

If he comes back I know just what he'll say: "Let's show this day a proper night and celebrate!"
If he returns, he will suggest that they do something to make the night memorable


Long gone the weeks of white lines and punctured veins.
The days of drug abuse and addiction are long in the past


The day all generations cried, "Sign em up! Sign em up! Sign em up! Boy, we're gonna make a man outta you."
The day when young men were enlisted into military services, often with the promise of making them more mature and accomplished


"Line me up! Line em up! Line em up! Man, now we're gonna make a ghost of you."
The opposite sentiment of the previous line, suggesting that instead of making a man out of someone, they will be destroyed by military service


He came back, but he wasn't the same. Sleep showed him nights lit like the day, and life for the take.
Even though he returned home from the military, he was still haunted by his experiences and unable to fully enjoy his freedom


I caught him in the morning pulling sandbags from the drain while his imagination shouted, "Sign em up! Sign em up! Sign em up! Boy, we're gonna make a man outta you."
Even in civilian life, he was still possessed by the idea of military service and its promise to transform him


"Line em up! Line em up! Line em up! Man, now we're gonna make a ghost of you."
The haunting refrain of how military service can destroy a person's spirit and soul


Remember when we played Wounded Soldiers? Broken glass and half empty bottles dying fast.
A reminiscence of a time when they were reckless and destructive, playing a game that reflected their inner pain and turmoil


We stayed awake till it was yesterday and long past.
They were so caught up in their self-destructive behavior that they lost track of time and didn't sleep


But he never really escaped wounded soldiers, broken glass, and half empty bottles dying fast.
Even though he moved on from the war and his addiction, he still carried their scars and memories with him




Contributed by Isabella N. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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Comments from YouTube:

Andrerc

awesome band

Robert From The High and Lowlands

If he comes back I know just what he'll say: "Let's show this day a proper night and
celebrate!" Long gone the weeks of white lines and punctured veins. The day all generations
cried, "Sign em up! Sign em up! Sign em up! Boy, we're gonna make a man outta you."
"Line me up! Line em up! Line em up! Man, now we're gonna make a ghost of you." He came
back, but he wasn't the same. Sleep showed him nights lit like the day, and life for the take.
I caught him in the morning pulling sandbags from the drain while his imagination
shouted, "Sign em up! Sign em up! Sign em up! Boy, we're gonna make a man outta you."
"Line em up! Line em up! Line em up! Man, now we're gonna make a ghost of you." Remember
when we played Wounded Soldiers? Broken glass and half empty bottles dying fast.
We stayed awake till it was yesterday and long past. But he never really escaped wounded
soldiers, broken glass, and half empty bottles dying fast.

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