Soothsayer

My love becomes a mange dyeing autumn in its leaves

When it broke me in the branch where my antlers come to feed

And I swam a hundred days in the bosom of this filth

Carry on this drought as I tighten this belt

This deceit has no arms

Bended will take what's yours

This deceit has no arms

Bended will take what's yours

Calling me

She's calling me

This it may have come to falter

We have become these pleads

In a field of balding marble where the medicine awaits

The hourglass pokes at the ribs of my cage

At half rations I'm finished

At half rations the minutes

All that happens was given

Coil and embrace