Текст пісні
You will find me in errors of skin
You will find me in gardens of dust
You will find me in masses of beak
In muscles of stuff
You will find me in mistakes of matter
In mutters of sung
In multiples of stupor
In mutations of stub
You will find me in acoustics of slide
You will find me in accumulations of acids
You will find me in accusations of sleet
In August of sleep
You will find me in lakes of silver
You will find me in leanings of self
You will find me in laymen of seed
In layers of sediment
Could I be found in not made accusations of terrible cloud and sleet?
Could I be found in six day sleep cycles?
Or could I be found in curtains of comb-like?
Or am I, am I a curtain?
What am I but curtain?
You will find me in leaks of seduction
You will find me in textures of foxglove
In textbooks of fountain
In tethers of foundling
You will find me in testicles of fowl
You will find me in testaments of fossil
In testaments of fossil
In testament of fossils