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Maybe it’s that feeling you get just beyond the hill when you see all the city lights. Maybe it’s that feeling you get at the bottom of a bottle and then it really hits you. You’re never, never, coming home from the wars. You let your whole life be defined by it - moments you can’t prevent. Every last drop until you forget. Maybe it’s the feeling you get when you feel like dying under the blurry street lamps. Maybe it’s the feeling you get under a bath tub of water and then it really hits you - You’re never, never, coming home from the wars. From Letras Mania