I'd been living through days Carrying no burden But the sh** of cattle And my resignation Until the sun rose crimson Crept across my limbs and I saw that they were earthen That they decay and worsen And from my ginger chest, there
Came the sound of thunder I am not a father I am not a farmer I tremble to speak of it. Held her in my arms and Pressed her to my heart and Pressed my hand o'er her lips