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Eskimo Snow - WHY? [Experimental-Rendition]
from LamesJee Hosted by LamesJee
All my words for sadness: Like Eskimo snow on unmanned crosses, all Planted in threes In a field for living trees Are hummed as prayers in secret And sung through speakers in rooms For people to hear it Even when I'm wasted and numb With the words for good wine On a philistine's tongue And I'm under something black And thicker than a sheet for ghosts Or the first feet of snow that old That old clouds yield On the crosses On the chests of dead soldiers in a field Then I'm Then I'm still here Bearing my watery fruits, if fruits at all Then I'm still here Barely understanding what truth that rarely calls Then I'm still here Bearing my watery fruits, if fruits at all Then I'm still here Barely understanding what truth that rarely calls
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