Из альбома: Heartland
I am living through days
Carrying no burden
But the shit of cattle and my resignation
'Til the sun grows crimson
Crept across my hands and
I saw that day [...]
[...]
From my ginger chest hair
Came the sound of thunder
I am not a father
I am not a farmer
I tremble to speak of it
Held her in my arms and
Pressed her to my heart and
Pressed my hand o'er her lips
I'll murmur words of wisdom
I will be his parent
In my [...]
In my half completion
And I [...] of the night