The Culling

Dead eyes, I only call you when you’re in my dreams
Died too young, the culling then, it was obscene
I am depleted by love
I am depleted by love
I’ll never tell the secrets of my family
Bled out, a cult of anonymity
The kettle is wheeling, my love
Riding on the back of a hell they caused
One ear to the ground
One eye on the room
My tongue on your pulse
My finger in your wound
Sweet dead eyes, I long to hear you again
Sweet dead eyes, I long to see your face
Sweet dead eyes, I long for that illustrious hiss
Sweet dead eyes, I know you feel it
No turning back
Only God knows what we’re headed for
The flowers bloom, the sun rises
Flux, hiss, welt, groan
Flux, hiss, welt, groan
Flux, hiss, welt, groan
Flux, hiss, welt, groan
Flux, hiss, welt, groan
Flux, hiss, welt, groan