|Songs That Make Me Cry
You Were But A Ghost In My Arms
Like snowfall, you cry a silent storm / Your tears paint rivers on this oaken wall / Amber nectar, misery ichor / Cascading in streams of hallowed form / For each stain, a forsaken shadow
All of the rivers are boiling with thirst / All my hands are covered with earth / All of my children that gnash with their teeth /Are paperback novels and dogs scratching fleas
|Between the Buried and Me
From the reciting of the show, from the Plip and the Shevanel / From the grind that annoys, and the sarcasm they all hate
[Instrumental] Makes me think of a war veteran remembering happy memories of his comrades forged in the tragedy of conflict.
|Godspeed You! Black Emperor