Из альбома: Beacons
No bodies move, their colours spill in gutters
In my chest
We raise our chins to break the wind while winter
Sleeps in cheeks
We are where the seasons meet
We are where the seasons meet
We curse this fog and send it off
In sparks that ride on evil thoughts
This fight is old and reeks of shredding skin
The rugs worn thin from bodies rolling in
Rolling in
Rolling in
Rolling in
The plague swept through our neighbourhood
Something sinister, something good
And Eloise, bring the breeze and shake these bones
To life
Shake these bones