Lapochka
How long must I wait
Till the mountains of avarice turn blue
How long must I wait
Till the moleskin I pick becomes fuse
Avulsion limps its spurs in the pinches of my earth
The dust I kick of anima shatters
Recorded on my reels of tape the trauma stops my flow
And in your suppression tastes sulfur
Hear the children say
Tear of mended sails
How long must I wait
Till the mountains of avarice turn blue
How long must I wait
Till the moleskin I pick becomes fuse
As if suddenly your avalanche
Reverses my polarity
And secretly I know that come Sunday morning
You'll be standing at the pulpit to an empty room
Hear the children say
Tear of mended sails
How long must I wait
Till the mountains of avarice turn blue
How long must I wait
Till the moleskin I pick becomes fuse
The drowning water
You drank
Passed on by birth
I’m no longer willing to give you control
vidéo incorrecte?