Mara
Margaret
wrong
fruit
so
I sent word to the church,
I knew the doctor would come
I knew, leave the blood aside,
it stayed
in the coffin
I sent
word to the church,
I knew the doctor would come
I knew,
leave the blood aside,
it stayed in the coffin
I waited for the road,
then a little warmth fell
I waited for
the road,
then a little warmth fell
The light does not hit my dark,
I do not seek healing
I have no hands anymore,
I step on my wound
The light does not hit my dark,
I do not seek healing
I have no hands anymore,
I step on my wound
