Ghost Pipe

Am I as empty as the hollowed arteries of trees
Milky as a moon- a tableau oft unseen

Natheless, I divulge myself a limpid bell that tolls
A sallow song beneath the beeches; wax and blood and bone
In the hinterlands of Zion, where God is born, I'll grow



Credits
Writer(s): Andrew Preston
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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