At the end of the war, they put down their swords
And wiped off the blood, and shook off the mud
And held onto each other, and cried for their mothers
Till all you could see were men on their knees

Is this what it means to be free?
I need ketamine for the PTSD

Pulled out pictures of their sweethearts
And worn-out postcards
In trenches of broken bodies
And everyone was wrong, and the cities were gone
And somebody broke bread, but nobody got bombеd

Is this what it means to be free?
I need ketaminе for the PTSD
'Cause all of the scenes are still haunting me
I need ketamine for the PTSD