The witches will return to their sticky tree knots
I will feel the sun coming down
You can be my life, you can be my fog
To break and rot a whispered fate
And burdened limbs of its weight
I wish I had a horse's head
Please doctor, please
To breach the hive and smoke the bees
Around me, in a bloody sea
You can be my friend you can be my dog
I will feel the sun, I will feel the sun
Please doctor, please