| Song | A Small Spark vs. A Great Forest |
| Artist | Norma Jean |
| Album | Birds And Microscopes And Bottles Of Elixirs And Raw Steak And A Bunch Of Songs |
| 作曲 : Norma Jean | |
| What did you say? Don't speak | |
| You nailed down all your words on me | |
| It felt like a blind guide | |
| Leading me into quicksand | |
| Fight fair, fight fair | |
| But all you hear is noise | |
| Fight fair. Fight fair! | |
| I've earthed this seed so many times | |
| Deeply held in this skin of bark | |
| Branches made of ash and | |
| Forests born aflame | |
| Restless and full of poison | |
| Shattered by a sea of dialogue | |
| Rabid speech, like dogs with teeth | |
| With words like a beggar, that don't speak, that don't speak | |
| Crouched and bent out of shape | |
| Rip this tongue out by the root | |
| And shake, shake these walls of this pale grave | |
| A blaze, a blaze | |
| Is set upon the hills | |
| A blaze, a blaze | |
| Is set upon the hills | |
| Open grave from which a great | |
| Forest will rise | |
| The fire collapses | |
| The corpses I've made | |
| This should not be | |
| Oh how we curse | |
| The tongue is a flame | |
| Let there be Grace | |
| With words like a beggar, with words like a beggar | |
| That don't speak, that don't speak | |
| That don't speak, that don't speak | |
| Don't speak | |
| Rip this tongue out by the root | |
| And shake these walls | |
| Shake these walls of this pale grave | |
| A blaze, a blaze | |
| Is set upon the hills | |
| Fight fair! |
| zuò qǔ : Norma Jean | |
| What did you say? Don' t speak | |
| You nailed down all your words on me | |
| It felt like a blind guide | |
| Leading me into quicksand | |
| Fight fair, fight fair | |
| But all you hear is noise | |
| Fight fair. Fight fair! | |
| I' ve earthed this seed so many times | |
| Deeply held in this skin of bark | |
| Branches made of ash and | |
| Forests born aflame | |
| Restless and full of poison | |
| Shattered by a sea of dialogue | |
| Rabid speech, like dogs with teeth | |
| With words like a beggar, that don' t speak, that don' t speak | |
| Crouched and bent out of shape | |
| Rip this tongue out by the root | |
| And shake, shake these walls of this pale grave | |
| A blaze, a blaze | |
| Is set upon the hills | |
| A blaze, a blaze | |
| Is set upon the hills | |
| Open grave from which a great | |
| Forest will rise | |
| The fire collapses | |
| The corpses I' ve made | |
| This should not be | |
| Oh how we curse | |
| The tongue is a flame | |
| Let there be Grace | |
| With words like a beggar, with words like a beggar | |
| That don' t speak, that don' t speak | |
| That don' t speak, that don' t speak | |
| Don' t speak | |
| Rip this tongue out by the root | |
| And shake these walls | |
| Shake these walls of this pale grave | |
| A blaze, a blaze | |
| Is set upon the hills | |
| Fight fair! |