| This is what life feels like on the ground
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| I had a brother who was stationed up in Northern Hill Country
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| You know he never really came home
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| We drove out east to Red River to see the high waters flow
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| That river was running just searching for an ocean the freedom we’d never known
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| That feeling you get when the wind is blowing like you’re whole life is
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| starting over
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| We made our peace there, with the no-man's land where we come from
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| I’ve been searching for the waves to carry us home
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| To the ocean we all came from, where we’ll all be returned
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| I’ve been searching for the waves to carry us home
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| To the ocean we all came from, where we’ll all be dissolved into one
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| Like a crippled animal running on broken legs that night
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| His voice was splintering, rising, and falling to a fate of «I'll never get out»
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| From Spokane all the way across Montana, then out to the Blood Reserve
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| A black Levis jacket knocking them beers back on the bank of that river
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| Underneath September skies inside the U.S. border
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| He made his peace there — just after his boots filled up with water
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| I’ve been searching for the waves to carry us home
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| To the ocean we all came from, where we’ll all be returned
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| I’ve been searching for the waves to carry us home
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| To the ocean we all came from, where we’ll all be dissolved into one
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| The waves will wash away the misguided vision
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| Of glory in a battlefield of a thousand corpses
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| I’ve been searching for the waves to carry us home
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| To the ocean we all came from, where we’ll all be dissolved
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| Out of many we are one |