Your Words are fire and honey
Spoken in the voice of the Wounded Stag
No hunter shall trap the flesh that feeds All
In a night as black as forests
By means of entrails and birds and stars
Held out on an olive branch
Encrusted with souls
Singing with Lazarus of strange mornings
Singing with Lazarus of new awakenings
Singing with Lazarus of strange mornings
Singing with Lazarus of new awakenings
(singing)
Come to me come to me come
Take my torn flesh as Your dress
Come to me come to me come
It's Your Name I confess
It's Your Name I confess
* * *
I saw You once when I was a child
Deep in Your forest of night
You were cracking open these stars
To write with black fire on white
I do not dare to speak of these things:
The Letters, the Name, and the Bright
Come to me in Your thicket of night
Written in black fire on white