|
So like your |
|
Father in the face and blood |
|
Terrified and cold |
|
And whispers |
|
The coming of a cleansing flood |
|
For youYou hide your |
|
Filthy hands from all of us |
|
Still unseen and tied |
|
What water |
|
These killing hands could ever clean |
|
Still you run |
|
I want to be changed from |
|
The shadow and the tomb |
|
Like water rushing over us |
|
The tide pulls from the moon |
|
Your mother |
|
The passing of a silver ring |
|
Oversized and cold |
|
This specter |
|
Will walk the halls of every seed |
|
From youI want to be changed from |
|
The shadow and the tomb |
|
Like water rushing over us |
|
The tide pulls from the moon |
|
The tide pulls from the moon |
|
The tide pulls from the moon |
