I shall bury the wounded
i shall count the dead
let their souls writhe in dew
footsteps on their bed
incense in my track
the carriage rocks as a cradle
and stepping from their skin
return to days of fables
of old bandages, boredoms
old faces return
stepping out of this black car
and watch as they burn
make it back safe
pure as a baby..
and beg for your life
its me who can save thee
