Lapochka Paroles

Til the moleskin I pick becomes fused?

The avulsion whims its spurs in the pinches of my earth
The dust I kick of animus shatters

Recorded on my reels of tape, the trauma stops my flow
and in your suppression tastes sulfur

Hear the children say
(Inexpressible innocence)

How long must I wait
How long must I wait
Til the mountains of avarice turn blue?

How long must I wait
How long must I wait
Til the moleskin I pick becomes fused?

As suddenly your avalanche
Hear the children say
(Inexpressible innocence)

Tear of mended sails

How long must I wait
How long must I wait
Til the mountains of avarice turn blue

How long must I wait
How long must I wait
Til the moleskin I pick becomes fused?

The drowning water you drink, passed on by birth
I'm no longer willing to give you control