Two hundred years, I've watched as they gathered
Shedding their bodies in the move to outside
White linen cloaks, a throne for their leader
The sound of a city breaks branches to hide
My eyes catch colour when they're closed
The bloom of these people, the scent as they grow
Dust clings to lines in an empty room
Skin pressed in ink
Windows to take flight or to keep us in?
No rest for wicked bones, not in this home
I am what binds now, what holds them together
I give them life; to me they are tethered
Suck out the sap from the king you adorned here
Barefoot you travel the roads that you fear
My eyes catch colour when they're closed
The bloom of these people, the scent as they grow
Dust clings to lines in an empty room
Skin pressed in ink
Windows to take flight or to keep us in?
No rest for wicked bones, not in this home
In this home (Sunlight)
Not in this home
In this home (Sunlight)
Not in this home (Grow)
Dust clings to lines in an empty room
Skin pressed in ink
Windows to take flight or to keep us in?
No rest for wicked bones, not in this home.
Dust clings to lines in an empty room
Skin pressed in ink
Windows to take flight or to keep us in?
No rest for wicked bones, not in this home.
Sunlight
Grow
Sunlight
Grow
Sunlight
Grow
Sunlight
Grow