Touching heals
Can't you see forest through trees
Can't you satiate
With your drills and your guns and with your rage
Voices can attain a torpor as if nothing ever sees
Can't you face a falling down upon a battered chain
With a head buried in the ground
With each life rise shake rise
Listen to me
I smell the dead jacket
All the living things become smaller as they fade
Fade shrinking so they fit into what is left
Caught inside a blade of all the symmetry of witch
Follow killing tiny age
Atomic age and nothing breathes
Continue with the suicide
Escort a savior through the yard
As soon as you see that you formulate a plan of faith
Continue to hobble out of vain
Set us up a round again
With each life rise shake rise
