Oh hell,
said the vulture to us as we fell,
out of peace out of love we could tell,
when our ties were unbroken we'd yell
And we stitched up the woulds from the fight,
from the fight.
Oh cry,
For the heartache unable to die,
think of times we were able to fly,
when the maggots eat, our throats are dry,
And we wonder why we looked so grey,
oh so grey.
And always you hold value in the corners of my mind, and we hold our bags of feathers to remind us how we fly, how we fly with such purpose, how we fall with such stillness, and always you will look at me as if I'm just your illness.