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letra de hardshell tacos - woodly

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her hands collect the roses
that i’d sown out in my maze
through a season of corrosion
and tend the garden of my shame

but the night falls undelayed
it comes creeping like a vine
by its silver tongue i’m slain
as shades of truth caress my mind

her angel frame i can not see
for i take no martyr’s name, i
in sickly sleep, with cavity
i’m bound by chains of decay

the fruit that i’ve mistreated
the blooming of light
her roots are now retreating
just the way i feared they might

though silent night befalls me
and my blood it is dust
i can’t bear to be a reaper
to the fields of my rust

her angel frame i can not see
for i take no martyr’s name, i
in sickly sleep, with cavity
i’m bound by chains of decay

tonight the pious moon will paint
her patsy hands in everglow
til the seeds of memory
meet reigning hope

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