Lyrics Words from the Front - Tom Verlaine

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 is 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

Upon the ridge they're dug in deep
We move in waves as if asleep
And there they lay, 4000 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