Under The Sycamore

The devil was in my ear

Persuading me to take my life

And so I ran away, in search for god

And I found her sitting and weeping

Under a sycamore tree that had been lifeless

Drained of its sap

As I approached her

She transformed into ashes

As she whispered to me

To warn them

Of the storm to come

And the sound of great mother's weeps still echo in my mind

And it pierced my heart like needles

And so here's the fucking warning

Of the storms to come

And the great sycamore

Will rise again

The storms to come