In vain, we endeavor to throw a sunny and joyous air over our picture of this period; nothing passes before our fancy but a crowd of sad-visaged people, moving duskily through a dull gray atmosphere.
“My dude came home like Papillon, his spirit never captured
But truth be told, he never had a second chapter
Camo, green and gold, pull me in the sky, it’s the Rapture
Anno Domini, it’s no before, it’s only after”