We are the fury and the greed and the filthy hearts of fishermen
Wrapped necks in their own line fed on by the fish with milk white eyes
We are the rotten apples plucked off the tree of the divine
We are the rotten apples plucked off the tree of the divine
Our father breathes diseases, our father breathes diseases through his fingers
Blows them out from his hands like hot ashes sticking to our eyes
We walk the paths wolves fear to pray but for what reason or a reason at all
Our love is in violence and our love is in pain and we love that we feel this way
We are the rotten apples plucked off the tree of the divine
We are the rotten apples plucked off the tree of the divine
Our mother breathes earthquakes, she breathes earthquakes from her lungs
And the earth will open us and swallow you whole, and it will and it will