The Last Young Widow - Young Widows

Angel females

Treat her as a sister

Share with her your harp like whispers

Wear runs down her face

If lace was a sound

She would hear the clouds

Clear and loud

But not the thunder

But not the thunder

Angel females

Is this your low?

Angel females

Is this your low?

Is this your low?

Worn thin, less than lace

She’s a good age

In comfort, end comfort

And come down just a little bit lower

Piercing horns

Slits in the sky are torn

Licking her lips

Defeat her

Defeat her

Whipping tail

Hits like heaven’s hail

She’s a good age

Kissing their feet

Angel females

Is this your low?

Is this your low?

Conceive her

Honor is her cry

Conceive her

Honor is her cry

Conceive her

Honor is her cry

Conceive her

Conceive her

Conceive her

Conceive her