Lyrics The Last Young Widow - Young Widows

The Last Young Widow

Angel females
Treat her as a sister
Share with her your harp like whispers
Wear runs down her face
If lace was a sound
She would hear the clouds
Clear and loud
But not the thunder
But not the thunder
Angel females
Is this your low?
Angel females
Is this your low?
Is this your low?
Worn thin, less than lace
She’s a good age
In comfort, end comfort
And come down just a little bit lower
Piercing horns
Slits in the sky are torn
Licking her lips
Defeat her
Defeat her
Whipping tail
Hits like heaven’s hail
She’s a good age
Kissing their feet
Angel females
Is this your low?
Is this your low?
Conceive her
Honor is her cry
Conceive her
Honor is her cry
Conceive her
Honor is her cry
Conceive her
Conceive her
Conceive her
Conceive her