Whitesong

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Bleach for the Stars

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As white as the reach between our words
As white as the bones that scrape the shadow of the sun
Beneath these frail skeins
Everything is written
And everything
Everything has come undone

As white as the reach between our words
As white as the reach between our words

Carven marks on the wet wind
Flayed soil piled at their flanks
The skin of the day is stricken
As bleached swords savage its shanks

We find no love in these new rites
A signal at best
There is little return for the rest
There is little return
Sinking and sinking in the West

There is little return
Sinking and sinking in the West

Old songs
Stabbed by stone
Litter silent petals over fake light
Black clouds belch across sky
The storm is coming and its coming brings forth night
The storm is coming and its coming brings forth night

A dull thunder claps
This dull white thunder claps
And the flowers slump
And our heads grow bald
A cold rain falls

A dull thunder claps
This dull white thunder claps
And the flowers slump
And our heads grow bald
A cold rain falls

As white as the reach between our words
As white as the reach between our words

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