Sitting by the river, I think I smell some rain Silver puddles glitter behind the old jail Wet snails get wetter, crawling towards perfume The air silks like snow Moth wings crumble by a day-lit fire Ash of dead wood pile Higher, pyre for false gods Blazing mires
Welcome to the afterlife
High afternoon times, afterlife times Twilight's best for venus flytrap Cloudless drops tear at my cheeks Brusque speak a raven beak Neon stars twinkle in the night Sage smoke, rainbow, money signs
