A little girl sits alone in silence
Playing her hair like a violin
Too many trembling nights
Has been laid down beside her
Too many encounters
With those carnal sins
An old man is building up a fire
His dead wife's clothes is the offering
Too many memories
Has suffocated his hours
Too much confusion
Around the suffering
This is where the I is lost
This is the axe that
Cuts right through the stem
And then
This where the we is lost
Where others become us
Us become them
And then
She puts her feet on and walks into the forest
She sees a smoke sign signaling
Come break the bread with me a soothing whisper
Come taste the hope and hear obese women sing
Out of the fire now his wife is rising
Just like a spirit forms in candomblé
Come taste my lips she says
Before this moment passes
Come lay me down
And undress all of my tears
This is where the I is lost
This is the axe that cuts right through the stem
And then
This where the we is lost
Where others become us
Us become them
And then
The wolf beside her drooling and panting
It tears her clothes off
And tastes her skin
She cries and tells it
I am so glad that you found me
She softly whimpers let us die here my friend
He pulls her closer a shivering beauty
Paler and younger then she's ever been
He cries and picks her up and walks into the fire
Cries out his answer
Yes, together now we'll end
This is where the I is lost
This is the axe that cuts right through the stem
And then
This where the we is lost
Where others become us, and us become them
And then