Lyrics:
(Though the only Angels in repose Were those with ivy strangled necks) Small mercies in vistas of dolmen and vault Gaunt, haunched edifices Midst
Red lips, blue dress Drawing herself and she smells the success She's sitting haunched over the drawing Big ambitions, there's no time for any
It's that time of year again Where everybody's gathering Under the cherry blossom trees We were haunched up in the tree But now I fathom that it
Words are failing, there’ll be blood on the table, for all to see Haunched and gathered, the dark voice of reason, it’s them or me I don’t blame them
to succeed when others must fail, a dry heaving circus of inhumanity. Like the sneaking boar with a haunched packed with lead digs through layers of loam
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