letra de real bodies - trough
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a dead child, a drowned child
chillblains, wet stones
slow c-n-l, dead water
are called forth
come forth
enter this room and stand
you fell from the bridge into the darkness of the water
and you will make us see
with eyes of moss
bruised black and tossed
raincloud and silt
by this coprolith they built
ghosts are in the mouth
dreams are in the mouth
so stand in this room
and you will draw near
as ectoplasm
over our face
as a piano key
striking suddenly
the discarded boy
so much refuse
in the slimy river
is called forth, come forth
they shot the husband
they shot his wife
they shot the roses
ghosts are in the mouth
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