Blood And Sand / Milk And Endless Waters - All Them Witches

Born perfect

Perched a top a spire

Nestled in the bosom of creation

Wounded once, never again

I’m building a cult around your figure

The saints, wanting

the idols present, the idols presence, the idols present

Rituals dance just out of reach

Just as any good conduit should dance, just out of reach

10,000 weary and wanted

Exhale the dust, folded into my boot heels

And on and on they, to forever

Little arms to heaven grasp me

Eyes of milk and endless waters

Breath, oh I will always breath

And know that I have found you

Breathe, you women of circumstance

And know that we are intertwined

She rises, even now to the summit

She bows to cradle and swoop in

We are balanced on one finger

And we are softly

We are softly sung to sleep