January 23rd
There's no road.
It's been raining now for three days
We're in mud up to our knees.
If luck prevails and I'm given leave
I should be home by the 17th.
One word I hear all the time
This word I hear
Blind
Blind
John died last night.
He had no chance
Beneath the surgeon's drunken hands.
It's hard to see
Who's about
The fires we light
Soon smolder out.
If luck prevails and I'm given leave
I should be home by the 17th.
One word I hear all the time
This word I hear
Blind
Blind
Blind
Up on the ridge
They're dug in deep
We move in waves
As if asleep.
And there they lay
Four thousand men
The general orders "Attack again."
If luck prevails and I'm given leave
I should be home by the 17th.
One word I hear all the time
This word I hear
Blind
Blind
Blind
January 23rd