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about
Recorded and Produced at Lofi Studios by Bruce Rintoul
lyrics
Your hell is my home
I cuddled into my guns on cold nights at Bastogne
Held a line I just couldn't hold
My fingers went numb
The sun looked beautiful whilst reflecting the sun to belie how I'm held in holes
I gazed on your house from the White and even when the lights were out it looked warm
Would I trade my place?
To lie south of righteousness and rub my shoulders with nothing but guilty men
Right now I bet they don't feel their shame
Chorus
How can I know peace when we've got men sleeping in dirt under trees, how can I believe in you?
Sweetheart, I'm safe but I'm scared and I think about you every day
But clasped hands, forgive me if I've lost my faith
My fingers, they've went numb and I won't write again
If I never switch this pen for gun
So sleep sweet while I sleep in holes
Chorus
How can I believe, how can I believe, how can I believe in you?