Half drowned in these holes Weve dug for ourselves How far have these days taken us We rest on the backs Of treaded paths And encircle the ghost Of used we used Theres death In these cluthed hands These words our bricks And so we build our fortresses The past into our chests Let me become whole this time And carry warmth Instead carry ice in my ribs Or bury me now to prove I neve set foot from this grave
cluthed, treaded, neve, encircle, carry