Its done. finally.

Did it all get real, I guess it's real enough

They got refrigerators full of blood

Another century spent pointing guns 

At anything that moves

Sometimes I worry that I've lost the plot

Three years of my life, for one little paper.

And so I thought I’d let you know
That these things take forever
I especially am slow
But I realize that I need you 
And I wondered if I could come home

Some days, just some, you can't help as much as you really wish you could. And that, that makes you human, that makes you feel weak and helpless, and raw. I'm not sure if it's just me, but that's something I'd take on for love, no matter how heavy. 

And I'm pretty sure listening to Bright Eyes is only counter productive. 

But only some sounds can sooth a weighted soul.