White Heron کے بول

egyptians hold kisses in waves letting go of everything that i tried to save your hands still move up my sleeves your room ruderess ressing reaves draw me still draw me still three men stood in the clearing staring at the wild white heron some glasses of wine and a pen what you take away you can't give back again draw me still draw me still broken wings won't bring you home soft white tendons, long hollow bones you hung those feathers from your ceiling so the women you bring home lay down loud mobiles are made for turning and the women you bring home lay down loud