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We start civilizations You lust dehumanization You can strew and you can stab But there’s one thing you’ll never have Culture stains When boats rise, you’ll be lost at sea Saddled, sultried Dawn of morning, housed in the night Sharpened bread knives As we created life And everybody knows Bloom is off the rose This cup of living milk Cloth of woven silk Washer woman Lord master of the necropaths Ghastly pride, abject need The priestess still feeds them Rise, in full plume Time to dig a hole under a bloody moon Sharpened bread knives As we created life And everybody knows Bloom is off the rose From Letras Mania