I'm awoken each night, there's something I can feel That rages in the room and does not leave There are tracks in the mud, the dirt is rooted up I wait out in the field for I've lost to appear To spring up from the ground, to spring up through my heels And the mountains, have they nothing to reveal? I'm awoken in the night, is it the eel? I hurl on the carpet, the feeling does not leave There are tracks in the mud, the dirt is rooted up I wait out in the field for I've lost to appear To spring up from the ground, to spring up through my heels And the mountains, have they nothing to reveal?