In These Pools,

from by NERVES

/
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lyrics

I feel something withering…
And I know,
It’s not the moon filtering the heavy lung sap.
In this pond painted night,
I wade.

“You look so insensitive.”

Stir this miasmic cauldron with my waking eye.

Flood.

Chest digger, settle down.
Sinking in this black marsh
With mist pale eyes,
Dissolving through my mind.
Of the grey eating weeds,
That need to feed,
On the sap they bleed.
Shoreline eyes,
Gaze at me.
In this swamp of lost thoughts,
The cryptic beast told me…

“You are a servant to me, I hold your eyes.”

In this marshland thick of lies,
I hear your tongue slither cries,
Of false reality.
You harvest souls
With the left hand of god,
And move on,
Careless.

credits

from NERVES, released January 25, 2013

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NERVES Minneapolis, Minnesota

MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA

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