I felt sick going in
I feel sick coming out

I cough up the dust that found a place in my lungs
As my eyes are drawn to the horizon
It's flat, dark

And a lone star desperately shines against the night sky
I'm not given a clear answer on what I feel anymore
I don't think that Home means what it used to

But all I can do is wipe my nose and my tears as we cross the border searching for a third way out of
Texas.