Crumbling at the very core of my being Dropped on my spine and now I find My spine is made of gla** Wax veined, moth to the flame Bones grind, dropped on my spine Bloodstained gla** in the sand
Softly slaughter the lamb So slow, knife in my back Remains like needle tracks Beautiful words are seldom true Tongue of thorns, my spine is gla** Spinegla** My spine is gla**