Milk that sours is promptly spat, light will fill our eyes like cats
Faceless scrumbled charcoal smears, oh dear
Through the coppice and the chaparral
The thickets thick with mold
Scribs and tangles between their ears
With spears and scepters and squirming sacks
Catch weed into the fold
And the strays are pining for their unrequited mothers
When our mouths are filled with uninvited tongues of others
The bracken and the brier
Milk that sours is promptly spat, light will fill our eyes like cats
And they shall enter from the back
