The scent of my hands is familiar to prostrated men in their call to guide me their spirits from fire, fire, fire, fire whose speak was so tenderly whose speak was so tenderly coaxed
The tinge of my eyes is familiar to prostrated men in their call to get close, close, close to their closetly homes Illuminate the worlds of the ghosts
Ears ring and teeth click and ears ring and teeth click and ears, ears Ears ring and teeth click and ears ring and teeth click and ears ring and teeth click and ears ring and teeth click Ears, ears ring
The air is familiar So is that smell Dead voices cover their bones Refill their quiet tones with vessels of earth and the cry of detritioning bones
Dust off my necklace, familiar To culminated piles, To the culminated piles of bones that shift with the earthquakes and trembles, trembles and call these men up to their, and call these men up to their thrones
The scent of my skin is familiar to prostrated men in their call to guide me their spirits from fire, fire, fire, fire whose speak was so tenderly whose speak was so tenderly coaxed
The air is familiar So is that smell Dead voices cover their bones and refill their quiet tones with vessels of earth and ladies that they have ungirthed
Ears ring and teeth click and ears ring and teeth click and ears ring and teeth click and ears ring and teeth click Ears, ears ring
Compositores: Corin Roddick, Megan James ECAD: Obra #7966272