1. |
Sister was a Witch
03:16
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What's pure is known to decay,
like flesh set aside on display,
Old Sister was born as a Witch,
Sits silent and lost in the pitch
Folded hands be damned, never seemed to make sense
What's decayed is no longer itself,
just the structure that held it so well,
Good Sister was born on a new day
and the loneliest known in her faith
Folded hands be damned, never seemed to make sense
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2. |
Those Holy Kids
02:28
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How our unholiest child sang sweet wind in the curse of the wild,
held a crown of skulls and rusted nails,
under the full moon so pale
Wrath of the sun so vicious, wrapped up tightly in it's superstitions, wrestle through cover of day, crawling through thistle and haze
Swan in the river so deep, blood dripping out of it's beak, water and body so cold, broken songs from the pit of it's soul
Now how our holiest grandson sang sweet death like a curse from his lungs, eager to count all the seasons, breathless and restless with reason
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3. |
Salt for Summer Wounds
02:39
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Held up on answers walking slowly down the path,
people staring at their feet
Another summer wasn't built to last,
patience pulling tender teeth
Fought all our cancers with broken blades and hymns of craft,
cleaned our blood through a leech
Soon the fall will come and pass,
Autumn winds will sow their seeds
Now the winter's all I have,
give me room to breathe
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4. |
Settle for Something
06:24
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Soft leaves whispering, nearly silent,
falling starlight on gentle waters
Broken bones and useless braces,
sunlit forests and mountain ranges
Laid down to sleep in her coffin,
humble wreaths lined her taste for knowledge
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The Steven Hawking Pajama Party Boston, Massachusetts
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