Postcard from Boot Camp

This track comes from the Lowcountry marshes where Aaron found wisdom knee-deep in pluff mud. It tackles A postcard from Navy boot camp — the fear, the transformation, the moment a boy starts becoming a man. Written as if eighteen-year-old Aaron is sending a note home.. The lyrics get specific — "And I've never felt so small and so far away from home" — because personal tracks on Majik's are personal for real, not performatively. The indie mix production matches the energy of the confession. It hits gritty and young, in that order. Every personal track in the catalogue comes from a real moment, a real feeling, a real person. This one is no exception.

[verse 1] Dear everyone, I'm writing from the floor Four AM, they woke us up, my everything is sore The drill instructor's voice could cut through steel and bone And I've never felt so small and so far away from home The beds are made so tight you'd bounce a quarter off the sheet I learned to fold my life into a box that's Navy neat The kid next to me cried last night, I almost joined him too But something in my chest said, Aaron, this is making you [chorus] Wish you were here? No, actually, I'm glad you're not This isn't pretty, this isn't what the brochure bought But somewhere in the breaking, something's being born A postcard from boot camp, dirty, tired, and torn But I'm still here, I'm still standing And tomorrow I'll be something worth commanding Wish you were here? Not yet, but wait for me I'm becoming someone you'll be proud to see [verse 2] They shaved my head, they stripped the civilian from my skin Replaced it with a purpose I didn't know was in Me before, it was hiding underneath the scared Beneath the kid from nowhere who just wanted to be cared About, and now the Navy's caring, just not soft It's caring like a sculptor, chipping everything that's off Until the shape emerges, and I think I see the form Of someone who can weather any storm [chorus] Wish you were here? No, actually, I'm glad you're not This isn't pretty, this isn't what the brochure bought But somewhere in the breaking, something's being born A postcard from boot camp, dirty, tired, and torn [bridge] I can do forty pushups now, that's twenty more than last week I can fold a flag so sharp it'd make a grown man weak I can run two miles without my lungs collapsing into dust And I'm learning that the secret ingredient is trust In yourself when no one else is trusting [verse 3] So keep this postcard somewhere I can find it years from now When I'm running companies and figuring out how I became this person from that kid upon the floor The answer's on the postcard: boot camp, 0400, wanting more [outro] P.S. — Send snacks They don't feed you dreams here Just discipline And it's the best meal I've ever had