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