Iron & Wine - Radio War Lyrics
Did the wine make her dreamof the far distant springor a bed full of hensor the ghost of a friendAll the while that she weptshe'd a gun by her bedand a letter he wrotefrom a dry, foundered boatAnd the train track will takeall the wounded ones homeand I'll be alonefare thee well, Sara JonesNow we lie on the floorwhile the radio warfinds its way through the airof the dead market squareAnd a beast never seenlicks its red talons cleanSara curses the cold,"no more snow, no more snow"