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letra de dry grief - berriloom and the doom

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died in a foreign land
what he left behind
is a cold meal and
smell of confined
air and ache rest in repeating
hatred of mirrors begun in breeding
the skin’s not mine
the skin’s not mine

these hands have been marked
by dry grief and seared harm
these hands will ruin their own shades
a common dirt, a proper shame

milk and coal stained my toothless, open smile
your anger pulled me out from that old womb
i’m a gift of an accidental lie
a useless wastе what we make when wе create

i spit in the lock and the kn-b turns
got the mail from the ministry:
„how shall we get said what must be said?
sadly, this is your family.”

inherited
life is like crushed apples
in the backyard
the lines of our bones
end here

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