A Saint Is Divided

An ethereal emission devoid of all light winds its way upwards
And it's of a different order than the rocking and rolling and stirred up sawdust
Doll's eyes fixed on a cicada shell in the corner
Each night another flake has fallen
Only you could reverse the order of things, discard your intestines

Float on a stream of collected claws and twigs and pressed flowers
Stripped of their cause, an enlightened void in the disembodied hours
A transcendental game of chase
You've taken their names away
You're setting the grooves in place
But deep underground they're gathering around, dressing your flesh for the fire



Credits
Writer(s): Matt Lane
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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