Field Medic
M. M. G. A. T. M.
Crouch low and smoke
With spiders
To keep raindrops
Off my head
I'm singing 'bout
Your ghost love
In reverie like
You were dead
'Cause I miss you already
You're the hollow
In my bed
I wanna be your stallion
No it's not
The nightmares
From our armistice
In the fall
It's just that I feel
Your distance
And I love you like
No one before
I miss you already
You're the hollow
In my bed
I wanna be your stallion
I stalk the streets
Alone now
Just me, my gibberish
And the moon
For I speak a
Different language
If I cannot
Speak with you
Yes, I speak a
Different language
If I cannot
Speak with you