The Kettle Black

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 Eleanor?
Have you heard back from William or Kate?
Are you getting your shakes
From lack of sleep as of late?
And my breath always reeks 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 the day
The tavern's closed and some say
They only saved us from missing our lives
He was buried away to
The ground and the blame
That Eleanor kept stored away
And his breath always reeked of escape



Credits
Writer(s): Jeffrey Scot Tweedy, Jay Bennett
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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