November
Saturday 2 November 2013 photo 1/1
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The saw in the hands it's white as snow.
The heavy endless weight on my heels it's cold.
The water on my head but I won't speak of you.
The hall and the rack and the wheel, it's true.
The cold and the loud and they won't let me sleep.
I've been dragged on the floor and my blood earns my keep.
My body holds a picture of the sun - it's you.
The warden bore a hole in my skull, it's true.
Tore off my limbs and my breasts.
The heart it's a heavy in the chest.
Hole, rack, wheel, time.
Heart, thorn, knees, blight.
Hand, hold, bright white.
Whole head feels light.
Tore off my limbs and my breasts.
The heart it's heavy in the chest.
Pulled out my tongue so i can't speak the truth.
The picture in my vision it's the sun, it's you.
And when it turns the hole in my vision fills with you.
Annons
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