When I think about it...

Such a weird kind of pain, eh, a guy crying ’cause he was in the army. Man, they paid him to go play cowboys. “Bang bang, you’re dead.” How come he never bounced back? Wasn’t like he had the hardest gig — he was just a stretcher-bearer after the slaughter, picking up the bodies, the dead and the busted-up. A sweet gig, helping others, a hero’s job, military first aid, wow. And he didn’t even face the same heat as his buddies. The bullets whizzing around him, they weren’t for him, they were for the others. Yeah, some guys die, but that’s war. He made it out alive, but it stayed stuck in his head from the day he came back, from the day he left the army. In the end, he took his own life. When you’re weak, you just stay home, you play Mario Bros, you get yourself a girl, you build yourself a life. Nah, the army, that wasn’t for him. When I think about it...