When I was small you might have thought of me
|
You might have spread apart the fat webs in your heart
|
But there was never anything inside of me
|
I¡¯m just dried mud casing that cracks and comes apart
|
And now I¡¯m being crushed beneath your feet
|
And all the mud is disappearing into me
|
You¡¯re rising up like fire while the memories halt
|
Don¡¯t look down to see me or you will become a pillar of salt
|
|
You¡¯ll never see my face
|
|
You are a song to sing
|
I am the dust and ash
|
You are the queen of clean
|
I am the world¡¯s trash
|
|
There is no candy center in the middle of the world
|
|
When I was small you might remember me
|
You might have drained the black oil from my heart
|
String me up and hang me upside down
|
And let the wild animals tear me apart
|
|
-----------------
|
The Sky
|
| Showbread |
