In a realm of aphorism
Leaning back into my hearth
Count the ways a silence falls
Millions now, each measured to fit
To sit, to slot neatly
Into our funereal waste paper basket
Amongst barbs and nettles I rest
Not quite asleep but bloodied
Carve a space out beside me, bed down
For the night at least
Disinvite the cicadas song and try
To steal some sleep
Writer(s): Matt Taylor
Copyright(s): Lyrics © DistroKid
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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