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My new family, huddled and cold;
dodging raindrops, taking torpedoes.
And I know we won't all make it home.
I know we won't all make it home again.

I miss my mama and the father I had;
rusted Chevy and the barnyard out back.
And I know we won't all make it home.
I know we won't all make it home again.

I feel the pictures close to my breast
soaking blood from the two in my chest.
And I know that I won't make it home.
I know that I'll never see home again.

I miss my Sammy and the gold in her hair;
the way she'd laugh without any cares.
And I know that I won't make it home.
I know that I'll never see home again.

What are You saying,
is this all that I get:
dead on the beach
cold and covered in shit?
No, I don't want to go to Your Home.
I just want to go back home again.
Serving Cosmosys' 4th exhibit "Colony".

Check it out. [link]
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November 27, 2010
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