lirik lagu trophy hunt - gate
the air still cuts at seven
mountain holds the chill
the men in my family bramble
scrabble at the edge of the yard
pr~cking a th~rn, plucking the berries
stamping down the stems
filling up the basket
drupelets piling on
it still k!lls me when fathers cry
the swing towards abjection
voice cracking spasming folds
maybe its because they do it less
because its unfamiliar
our faces stretch so much
when we can’t control them
same fielded housе
surrounded with frost
upstairs wait it out
swim through the loss
but i don’t love him fathеr
and i won’t
i could have been one
and now i won’t be
grief molding my face
incisions through my cheeks
scr~ping off what shouldn’t grow
stolid in new repose
i could have been one
and now i won’t be
would i see a different older me
cracking, sympathy flowers
if you gave her a time machine
would she set the younger self on her current path
maybe i would find
i’d been preceded by an elder
aware of the futility
at the alchemist’s gate
allow the rows of pain to flower and bloom
die and be born again
if you gave her a time machine
would she set the world itself on a different path
maybe i would find
i’d been preceded by an elder
aware of the futility
at the alchemist’s gate
allow the rows of pain
to bloom
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