That pole isn't growing in my black solid sky Solid sky And pirate ships pulled these shoulders back But in morning slumber I gripped the slender palm of my hand And I felt the soft of my flesh And I stared into my sister self
And we was running, running, running We was climbing, we was fighting We was breathing fast Praying please
We were singing We were dancing We were clapping Singing, dancing, clapping
We were returning to the hills Bringing buckets drawn from the wells Returning from to the hills Bringing buckets drawn from the wells
But I've got to hold my own hand I've got to hold my own hand And this is my skin I feel And these are the teeth that I clench And the hazel of my sight Plus the colors she wears is mine O that color she's wearing is mine
And we was running, running, running We was climbing, we was fighting We was breathing fast Praying please
We were singing We were dancing We were clapping Singing, dancing, clapping
We were returning to the hills Bringing buckets drawn from the wells Returning from to the hills Bringing buckets drawn from the wells
Compositor: Alela Diane Menig ECAD: Obra #24061887