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The taste of song

The skin of sea

The pale of bones

The shape beneath

The taste of song

The skin of sea

The pale of bones

The shape beneath

A photo of a river

A song about the waves

A woman spins inside her skirt

On the floor of an abandoned stage

A note inside a pocket

I remember what it said

Words that read like stains

Oh, what is it that you meant?

The taste of song

The skin of sea

The pale of bones

The weight of me

The taste of song

The skin of sea

The pale of bones

The weight of me

To discord

To war

And the heart, it rages on

To land

To sea

Take me with you

The taste of song

The skin of sea

The pale of bones

The shape beneath

And you tread

The earth and firmament

No longer ours

Language and working limbs

There in the night

Exalted, ruthless queen

Old summer dirge

Sing beneath the canopy

Array of green

So lush, do you concede?

I was never yours

Do you concede?

Do you concede?

Devoted to your darker work

My blood leapt from the strangest place

The shrillest of four arias

Words rendered false in the garden

Sorrow tipped its hat and fled

You speak my name and no one wept

Mystique woven in the moon's cleft

I bow my head and bid farewell

In streams of relief

I cup my hands

An ocean overcome

Won't be the last

And it won't

It won't be the last

And it won't

It won't be the last

To discord

To war

And the heart, it rages on

To land

To sea

Take me with you

To transcend

To shore

Usurp with golden thread

To hail

To return

And unravel yet another myth