My salvation was so near But it does not assuage my paralyzing fear That trench was to be my astral womb For God knows it was nearly my tomb I prayed, I prayed Bury me at Ypres With a coffin made of mud In full battle array I pray, I pray To St. Cocaine I wait, I wait For virgin white embrace I am brought back from the dead To live again amongst the well fed Bid to forget the hell The Hell that I learned to love so well Death's wail Haunting Paschiondale With an elixir mostly of blood This magic shall not fail I pray, I pray, and I pray To St. Leda Cocaine I wait, I wait, and I wait For her swanlike embrace A long march toward a certain death What doesn't kill me only feeds my paranoia