J. W. Red

It could be about whiskey.

Dream of a cold and hard winter, harnessed to your thoughts
Find the frozen Fountain, where the water once ran steady
We're carved out like the rest
A mold we cannot best
I've dreamt of cold nights, frozen streams, but have you seen the
Fog of war?
Laid neatly on the table, a buffet of young souls, and the whole world sits
With it's mouth open wide and eyes closed
It drinks and eats a million lives and spits out all the bones
The Fountain water is silent
The cold wind murders the world
And all I need is
Johnny Walker