The Extended Silence of the Day

Worn and withered
You attempt to learn to take oil
Then cometh holy water
From a belmont voice above

You grow vines from their pocket
Bloom buds around his waist
Cling tightly to his legs through
The extended silence
Of the day

Maybe you were never told love
The thorns that do protrude
And pierce the unequipped
To handle you

The fuel changes yet again
Thick and viscous, blinding vicious
Smelling sweet of a butchers cleaver
Hatched in brick, slick with grease

Old and hungry
Their vision a pixel mess
Cut with the smallest finger
The celery tendons of one of your many chests
How bloomed your berries
How quickly they devoured
Never ripe enough never round enough

It was a simpler time
It was the sampler time
The sample must duplicate
And so must your stem divine



Credits
Writer(s): Dani Pearce
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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