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Mount Marcy is growing sparseShe is the farce that I would like to tellFrom the bottom of your wellFeel the bushes, brambles ramblingAmple sapling, suckling all the airAnd the North from Marcy's hairWhen my death-day comesWhen my death-day numbs meI shall become oneI shall become nothingAnd something!Something is the heaven-king for me!Your crucifixion-three-large-hills areShadow-making over stilts we builtOn the mountain's siltMarcy, you're my fav'rite love!Seventeen and freckled like a soulTo forget you would be soHard on meHard on meHard on me to cut you from my dream-rangeLetras de cancionesBut we shall become oneWe shall become nothingAnd something!That something is the heaven-king for me!Birds are chirping, you're usurpingThings that I would never want to tellFrom the top of your landfillWorkers smoking, all evokingEvery county, full of filth and loveTo which you're bound aboveWhen my death-day comesFor certain, I'll be sorryFor all that I have done indoorsWhen outside sons were shiningBlinding! Binding!Reminding me the heaven-king is one! From Letras Mania