LYRIC
One of our men drank my ink, thinking it was medicine
Most men have fever and hallucinations. Hardly anyone can
Stand. I can no longer write. There is no arrow. This is no
Rain. It is just illusion. There is no rain
One of our men drank my ink, thinking it was medicine
Most men have fever and hallucinations. Hardly anyone can
Stand. I can no longer write. There is no arrow. This is no
Rain. It is just illusion. There is no rain
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One of our men drank my ink, thinking it was medicine
Most men have fever and hallucinations. Hardly anyone can
Stand. I can no longer write. There is no arrow. This is no
Rain. It is just illusion. There is no rain
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