He got the letter in his mail by the middle of his summer
Wouldn't have had to go if it wasn't for his new born brother
He was barely eighteen, murdering people even younger
And he still ducks and covers every time he hears the thunder
He still hears the screams, smells the flesh, tastes the death
Sees the blood, feels the pain What's to gain?
Nothing's left but the slug that remains in his right path
The bullet laughs every time he cries, and it drives him mad
- Eyedea and Abilities - A Murder of Memories
Such a great song.
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