letra de forest talks - these brittle bones
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we settle down
we fall asleep
we lie in the dark
and the monsters don’t speak
we close our eyes
now darkness is gone
these hollowed lines
have found a place to move on
so let me in
these woods are cold
this boiled blood
needs a place to grow old
and now we’re lost in this wasted land
this crumbled night has a tremble
in its hand
the trees grow limbs
and start to walk
they show their face
the forest talks
figures stroll out
of the snow and the gloom
they take my hands
and embed them anew
the whispered night
tells tales of old
the shallow wind
turns warm souls cold
the trees go soft
and walk back home
they have no face
they are alone
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