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 elanor?
have you heard back from william or kate?
i've been getting the shakes
from lack of sleep as of late
and my breath always reaks of escape
i'll be home soon and hopefully safe
if you love me, you won't make a scene
when i get home please just leave me be
if you love me, then don't make a scene
when i get home please just leave me be
twenty years to date of this close and some say
henry saved us from missing our lives
he was buried away to the ground and the blame
that poor elanor kept stored away
well his breath always reaked of escape...
