We dream like lions
|
warm in the frost
|
fresh from the kill
|
tiny teeth and claws
|
We dream like lions
|
|
Deep beneath the loam
|
The windows of his soul
|
Ash on the watery glass
|
Broken but still whole
|
|
A halo of barbwire
|
A frozen night of fire
|
Oh, so cold
|
|
We dream like lions
|
below and above
|
the wooly little lambs
|
that look a lot like us
|
We dream like lions
|
|
The dark poles of the weeping trees cradle him close in the heavy breeze.
|
Crumbs for the crows slow empire of worms.
|
We sing the cry of countless broken souls,
|
"the world is made of razorblades, they choke on the words they'll never say,
|
I wish it could change, but it will always be this way."
|
|
We dream like lions
|
warm in the frost
|
fresh from the kill
|
tiny teeth and claws
|
We dream like lions
|
|
We dream like lions
|
below and above
|
the wooly little lambs
|
that look a lot like us
|
We dream like lions
|
|
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|
We Dream Like Lions
|
Otep |