Crumbling world falls through my hands
In my mouth taste bitter sands.
Grass is burning, pulse is slow.
Drip by drip my backwards growth...crawl.
Fade to hate.
And I`ll die within my fade
Wine, song, women, birth
This deflowered mother earth
Planting, plowing, how she grieves.
The seeds that grow these dying trees
Fade to hate
