“Build a Box” - a song about insulation
Written as part of Project DREW, a pairing of veterans and songwriters. Find out more here.
Story Pairing
I’ve done Project DREW a handful of times now, and to say it’s an honor is an understatement. When you are in a room with veterans you start to feel something that I can’t really describe. For me it’s an odd cocktail of awe, guilt, respect, confusion, curiosity, and timidness. There’s more complexity going on, but those are the broad strokes. I personally chose a path that feels very different than the military, so there is this respect and awe that exists for individuals capable of what I don’t feel that I am. Confusion and curiosity comes from wondering what leads up to a decision to participate in the military. Timidness and guilt come from all the times I’ve experienced extreme comfort and freedom, yet still judged without understanding the cost of what I often take for granted
It’s pretty easy for me to form opinions and share them, always has been and probably always will be. I don’t like the concept of war, and I don’t really like our government at this moment in time. That’s where some of the additional guilt comes from. I’m so quick to write off or poke at people that walk different paths than I do. It’s a nasty habit and one that seems to be reinforced the last few years in media across the board and from the actions of people in power. It’s trendy to look at someone different than you and bash them to the moon and back. I’m not saying that is what happens with me and veterans (quite the opposite really), I’m sharing that more to say that our ability to sit with someone different and understand where they are coming from and find common ground, that is being eroded away by a cracking society. When the default is to find differences instead of similarities and replace empathy with callous competition, we are missing out on such magical nuance that can exist when swapping life stories with a stranger (and often a possible friend).
Back to project DREW if we can. The concept of putting a veteran and a songwriter together is incredible. On paper those two archetypes certainly wouldn’t have much in common right?. An emotional artist and a trained soldier… what? The thing is those are the first stereotypes to go out the window. I quickly realize how complex, kind, and artistic just about every human mind is within the first few minutes of talking with a veteran. And I like to think the veterans realize musicians aren’t all delicate panes of ego-centric glass.
It’s a treasure to be gifted with another humans story. To then take that story and turn it into a song is a responsibility I take so very serious. It’s one of the more powerful ways to use songwriting. To me, working with someone that has seen things you can’t really comprehend, and placing those shared stories into a condensed musical one, makes you feel connected. Not only to that specific individual, but a wider net to others that have seen or been through similar moments. It adds a new wing to my ability to understand and listen and see. That’s wild. To feel yourself blatantly grow as a person after listening to another person’s set of experiences, what else does that? I think it’s a mix of the intention behind the listening. Knowing that I am challenged to put the shared story into a song makes me listen in a different way. I pay attention to the truths right behind the words. The way the person was feeling when this happened, the things they could smell while that happened, the thoughts in there mind when they did one thing and what they had for lunch before doing the other. It’s those little pieces that hit you over the head and make you realize that behind every memory or action there are endless components. It’s in those pockets of components where we have shared experience. Hearing a story deeply, tethering yourself to the shared experiences, and being open for the ones that are a million miles apart, that’s where the magic is. It’s like a giant zipper where some parts align naturally, others don’t, but when brought close together by something shared, it closes the gaps and you’re stronger because of it.
That’s a lot to say, thank you. Thank you Chuck Shaffer for sharing your story and trusting me with it. Thank you for making me a better person because of it. Thank you to everyone who is experiencing life in a different way, and letting other people have a chance to start doing the same. Thank you to anyone who is making the space to listen openly and appreciate fully. Thank you for reading the ramblings of a songwriter always trying to grow.
Song Structure
Capo 4
Verse: C - G - C - G
Pre-Chorus: D7 - C7
Chorus: G - D7 - G - C7 - G - E7 - Am - D - G
Voice Memos
Notebook Page
April 2026
Lyrics
I built me a box, US plywood and Bahgdad doubt
Put the hard things in it, keep the good things out
Im storing it in, the back of my mind
Just what strong men do
Build a box or two
2 by 4s and concrete floors, dead rats at a hundred degrees
Spunkmeyer muffins for dinner, scorpions climbing up your knees
Diesel in the fresh air, with gunfire and IEDs
The lullaby you exhale, sand every time you breath
Matching dominoes next to captured foes, jeering with foreign tongues
Our squad out working the cropper, beneath a midnight sun
Mortar comes through the sidewall, no time to hide or run
It was an old dud shell, lucky that we got that one
Just a couple more stories for the archives
A couple more than I want it to cost
I built me a box, US plywood and Bahgdad doubt
Put the hard things in it, keep the good things out
Im storing it in, the back of my mind
Just what strong men do
Build a box or two
Sweet reprieve, a few weeks of leave, to see if I remember at all
Anxiety it won’t let me be, will I make it to another roll call
Couple boys down the street setting fireworks, hit the ground in a trained low crawl
Board the plane, an inevitable thing, following the protocol
Harder getting back into routine, should of never left the jail
Turning every corner with a tight chest, taking every smooth detail
Remind me what I have to get back to, phone calls and homemade mail
Two small voices say they miss me, driving in another old nail
Just a couple more stories for the archives
A couple more than I want it to cost
I built me a box, US plywood and Bahgdad doubt
Put the hard things in it, keep the good things out
Im storing it in, the back of my mind
Just what strong men do
Build a box or two
First year back never happened, like I wasn’t even on the train
Life went on without me, no memory of it in my brain
No more fighting in the desert, now I’m fighting the pain
Left the pieces in my suitcase, the only thing keeping me sane
Helping soldiers like me, familiar company, to get back up on their feet
Tales get swapping, my bottle unstopping, fog starting to recede
It’s leaking out what I shoved deep down in my questionable carpentry
Got to pay for it now, not push it off somehow, only one way to proceed
Just a couple more stories for the archives
A couple more than I want it to cost
It’s a strength to face the music playing outright
A strength to take apart what you want to stay lost
I broke down a box, US plywood and Bahgdad doubt
With all the hard things in it, the good still won out
I’m cleaning it from, the back of my mind
That’s what strong men do
break a box or two
I’m cleaning it from, the back of my mind
That’s what strong men do
break a box or two