Long Short Round

Salting tired wounds Will not staunch Invasive feelings Cauterised in guilt Satisfies a Lone believing An insobriety Of tongues, numbs a Sincere meaning Casting yarrow carvings On the counting rise of shores High tides finalise the fall Of Fortune's tender words You'll get no tales You'll get no tales Just the tempered gestures meant to tell How she can't change her heart again Throwing silver down a well Skin. Will. Crawl - questions hard as wood, hard as wood Skin will crawl Now all enthralled By the unresolved How to feel so good Feel so good Feel so, feel so Casting yarrow carvings On the counting rise of shores High tides finalise the fall Of Fortune's tender words You'll get no tales You'll get no tales Just the tempered gestures meant to tell How she can't change her heart again Salting tired wounds It's self imposed Cauterising bruise It's self imposed Salting tired wounds It's self imposed (It's self imposed) Cauterising bruise It's self imposed (It's self imposed) Salting tired wounds It's self imposed (It's self imposed) Cauterising bruise It's self imposed (It's self imposed) Salting tired wounds It's self imposed