|
blue burning orange |
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vespertine, my eyes drown in the evening glow |
|
swallow shooting stars like a sacrament |
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and burning leaves just like some ancient prayer |
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from autumns swollen tapestry |
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a quilt so faded and torn to threads |
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i struck a match just to light my way |
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and burned my fingers instead |
|
now the forest is gone |
|
the ashes fall like snow |
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when winter sank in the soil |
|
the garden just wouldn't grow |
|
now the forest is gone |
|
the ashes fall like snow |
|
we tie our tourniquets tight |
|
our bitter blood stops to flow |
|
we built the funeral pyre |
|
the ashes fall like snow |
|
we held a seance inside ourselves |
