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The Musical Box

de Echolyn

write this in "18"
The sky is red and the gas is burning yellow
The daisy cutters fly
My feet are rotting, the trench is just mean and wet
I wish I was home

I was talking to a friend for a minute
In a second he lay dead, still and silent on the ground
I swear he never knew what hit him
He was telling me of a girl and getting married as soon as he was home

Home across the ocean
Too late for everything

I keep myself alive and awake
By sharing my flask of whisky and rum
I never drank much before
But I picked up some habits that I never had at home

Home across the ocean
Too late for everything

100 Abdullah Egyptians
...a treasure I had found
By the body of a fallen soldier
He won't be needing them
I smoke them in silence and dream of being home

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