In the still of the night, through the fight of the battle
My muse is my serum from the venom of rattle
Snakes in the grass so she rides on a saddle
A chariot of fire till she ends on the gallows
May the words of this poem travel where I roam
Distant lands, it's a shame you're all alone
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
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