| Spit and Blood |
|---|
| You know everything is covered up |
| With a little bit of spit and blood |
| Somehow all of it is growing from |
| Just an echo and a fist of mud |
| You know everything must break or bend |
| Only till the pieces finally fit |
| All the fingerprints are filaments |
| Lining every side and pulling in |
| You know everything is on the up |
| All the blooms are stretching for a sun |
| When they finally reach a perfect one |
| It will still be made of spit and blood |
| La la la |
