She wore lines from the senses Her ancestors gave her And broke both her arms In the honour of industry And though people wept At the picture of helplessness Tears in the flood were a smear in the mud Well I kiss in the shadows She calls from the grave All missing the people gave and then gave And then went
Old by standard and young by another Too old for the landslide That killed both the brothers For being but a sapling When they were the oak And then married by twenty In the cares can’t come Home is a parable Death is comparable We’ve been pruning your grave Since the day you locked your door
Welcome today Deity born by a river And thought of him daily It brought but a shiver And cold in the mornings We’ll step on the dawn As the days in the saddle Life more than addled She drinks for the blood Of a twopenny bit Laughs through a tear As she loses her wits and her wicksTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
