Snow thinks it's sound
go on and fill the woods with me,
spread me evenly. My harness is burdensome
Without it though, I no longer see for miles
I fall into the darkest sleep dreaming of nuclear flakes
that take my vitality.
His mistake is the village, the burning frame of the farmhouse.
The harness drowned in the bones of the old horse.
I drank it all too easily.
Little years go by and back to the woods where I am evened
up by miles. Spread thin...
The darkest sleep dreaming still even though I am not here. triple helix and extra isotopes taint the touch.
Stop this and know how deep it goes.
The little bell that lays on the ground,
it tolls. He is his.
Snow thinks it's sound. It's, its.
How deep before we watch?
How many fathoms before I dream?
Before I disappear?
Only the shake of the bell
will keep it's promise.
