whimper for the life
and cry for the seems
split by the knife
and hung from the beams

ill try and ill try
and ill reap what ive sown
but goodbye goodbye
they remain unknown

for climbing the trees
are creatues of fever
they are soot on the breeze
the chaos weavers

but yet not in the trees
here on the ground
for the fruit my soul keeps
so they must have come down

or maybe in mind
where such demons breed
and thoughts unwind
making me plead

and the life i have failed
by planting their seed
with hands that have palied
and nails that still bleed

ive needed so long
and whispered so harshly
i fear it now gone
maybe it hears me if only but hardly

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