When the cavalry clears and the limbs of our peers lay around us like sticks in the mud
We’ll say to ourselves “where’s the heaven in this hell?” we’re on a ladder without any rungs
With the ash of our friends in our lungs
That’s enough about the war, how’s my dear Eleanor? Have you heard…
blood, there’s blood on the carpet
blood, there’s blood on your hands
if the two are connected i’ll know where we stand.
you’re left in the dust of decisions, begging for more.
now you’re high and alone, be careful, don’t swallow your tongue
just put an ear to the ground where you did it
wait for them to come…