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