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’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