This is my fault
A rancid wind by your sweet lips
Is shaking
My family tree and ridding me
Of these rotten fruit
That I love so completely
Their evil is not their own
It is a ripe mould I have tenderly grown
And placed gently in their sweet and pliable teeth
I am just a coward in your long embrace
I will filter every inch of soil through my face
Kissing every rock and every worm to see
You lay my children's ugliness at my feet
For they are pure!
And I am wretched
And all my gardens
I am death
I am infected
Oh Death, Death, Death
I am just a coward in your long embrace
I will filter every inch of soil through my face
Kissing every rock and every worm to see
You lay my children's ugliness at my feet
I am just a coward in your long embrace
I will filter every inch of soil through my face
Kissing every rock and every worm to see
You lay my children's ugliness at my feet
Oh Death, Death, Death
Oh Death, Death, Death
Oh Death, Death, Death
Oh Death, Death, Death