Crumblin' world falls through my hands
In my mouth, taste bitter sand
Grass is burnin', pulse is slow
Drip by drip, my backward growth
Crawl
Fade, fade, I hate
I'll die within my fade
Wine, song, women, birth
This deflowered Mother Earth
Planting, plowing, how she grieves
Seeds that grow, seeds that grow these dying trees
Crawl
Fade, fade, I hate
I'll die within my fade
True
Crawl
Fade, fade, I hate
I'll die within my fade
© PHILLIP ANSELMO PUBLISHING DESIGNEE; WARNER-TAMERLANE PUBLISHING CORP;
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