What’s this? In still mist I thought I buried you! Clinched fist. I knew, without rue!
Salted lash. Eye on the moor Shovel, sh-sh-sh Anchoring mi amor Soil crash, sh-sh Noise, masking your allure.
I felt helpless Kin to all it was selfish Sin to all
It’s true! I have been very ill You knew, I’d listen, you know my will.
Soft sounds every morning A friend. Tugging me away from mourning. An end.