Give me a word for the boundary between the world you went to see and the small one you call your own. I want a word for the moment you know you're almost home.
Madness string 27809
I'm afraid you'll never get home. Your knuckles will bleach on the prairie, and mum and dad will cry till they drown, and there'll be nothing left at all, and later the hyenas will howl over the whole thing.