Hairs of uncharted memory finders
Looking for unloaded carts
Trade me your goods for my beds
Shortly our caravan comes apart

The shreds of the colors above us
Still flicker like lava at dusk
I painted your lips with charcoal
So sign all your lines before time is up

Our little people are without doubt
Our little men skin jackalopes alive
Our little people trod paths in darkness
The weather is ours and embers don’t die

Contorting
The familiar trees
Have no smile
At their feet

No tar left
No dead mouse in sight
How can you
How do you decide?

I am terrible at guessing though
I work terribly when pressed, oh no

---

Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.