What was the catalyst, the final offense, that forced her presence To intervene, to make known, this planet of stone, is truly her bone
And her flesh, ripples with troughs and crests And our lakes, are her breasts And her veins, quench our thirsts But we pour our filth in first
Our judgment came not in flame, but in flood A crawling lake of brine, thick with oil, thick with blood
Beg for, forgiveness from higher ground
Scents of cetacean serpents carried for miles One baleen grin hides another serrated smile
When, pectoral fins block out the sun, all is lost
For those out of her reach, she'll swell rivers into the creeks, Pushing creeks into the streams, until the highest lakes boil and teem
Torrential flows carving pinnacles clean We are debris from which god's hands filter feed
When new shores lap at our highest peeks The world as we know it will flow past their teethTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
