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