Native Wildlife - Unhallowing | Текст песни

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• Native Wildlife
• Unhallowing

(Closed Doors at an East Boston Home)

What savages are we, to not see what we've done to this sacred place? This house of healing, this place of mourning; how many lives passed through its gates? How many families were comforted in its sweet embrace?

Now the building stands empty, reduced to the bricks that make up the walls. The offering emptied, the furniture stolen or given away. We sealed its fate in a single day. Then went out to drink to our callous hearts and careless mistakes.

We washed our hands of it, casting no second thoughts to the unhallowing of this no-longer-sacred ground.

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