I'm writing this letter from a hole in the ground
While my mind is still sane, while my thoughts are still sound
I'm afraid I'm writing with bad news my dear
It looks as though I won't be home for Christmas this year
This grass used to be green these skies used to be blue
I've committed these sins there wasn't much I could do
I feel so alone I gotta get home to you
Someone is trying to kill me I've forgotten why
The only thing I know is I don't want to die
Crippled with fear my next breath could be my last
I gotta get outta here real fast
My clothes are damp I can't feel my feet
I've been stuck in this same trench for over a week
Trying so hard just to hold my breath
To keep out the stench of rotting flesh