Centralia

I offer myself to you

Though I am a broken thing

A cardinal with severed wing

In morning to hide my face

Though I am a sunderer

Guised in maternal grace

Heir to a crippled ground

My little Elysium

My god how I've let you down

Let me fall

Through the ground

Where you fell

Back to you

We burn like Centralia

Lost in the ash below

Hoping to find a home

So far may you run from me

To cities with living leaves

No fire to fear beneath