lirik lagu gridlink - thorn farmer
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first ring i ever drew still hurts the last thing i ever
drew
telling myself just one more year until the last shovel
of dirt
spending forever doting on each circle of graphite
each fresh ring a hoop that marks my not p-ssing on
safe places are vaccuums, filling with sadness, without
spark
plucked out of a patch of sun, i tried to refill you
wrapped in burlap
my first born dead
how many children do i have to bury before i am allowed
to end
why doesn’t the ghost speak, instead stare accusing
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