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