William Fitzsimmons - The Tide Pulls From the Moon (Acoustic Version) | Текст песни

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• William Fitzsimmons
• The Tide Pulls From the Moon (Acoustic Version)

So like your
Father in the face and blood
Terrified and cold
And whispers
The coming of a cleansing flood
For you

You hide your
Filthy hands from all of us
Still unseen and tied
What water
These killing hands could ever clean
Still you run

I want to be changed from
The shadow and the tomb
Like water rushing over us
The tide pulls from the moon

Your mother
The passing of a silver ring
Oversized and cold
This specter
Will walk the halls of every seed
From you

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