Limbs Might Wail - Masque



Pets of nightfall, fed enough

Longing flings to say hello

Running fast in spiral dances

Mocking bed-clothes try to burn

The air gets filled with damp

When telling lies of health devices

Burning it with glitter

Of thin and nervous eyes

The fall of something clear

And shining through the air

Hit his shoe and headed for the womb

Growing wet and rolling

Leaving salt lines in the skin

Waiting in the halfroom

My mouth smells bad

I'm saying nothing

Gasps of pets will speak of me

Among other stranger things

While one by one and very silent

The small and far-away people

Go dark and out of reach

I swear that I can't tell

If I am happier by now

Spiteful hours till times are done

Unease will drag your bones to sleep

Lower yourself till times are none

You will always be beloved

(Words: Sahlin Music: EngstrmRellmark)



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