Stood at the feet of the butcher
Four high walls of coral and stone
And all the creatures of the sea, all the sand on the shore
The noble savage’s bones
Around the feet of the butcher
Bent the rivers flow, bent the rivers flow
I sit and watch through a crack in the sill
Where a cold wind blows through
An empty stomach to fill
As the ocean rose up the eves
And all the builders and masons were drowned
And all that was flesh sunk like a stone, like a stone
I awoke on a funeral tide
Drunk at the oars and the light was dying
I awoke on a funeral tide
Drunk at the oars and barely alive
The city hemorrhaged with the sirens’ swell
The streets now paved with mussels and shells
We held our breath through these dredge water years
Drunk on the brine and up to our ears
There’ll be no refuge of land or lee
For the scavengers of men
We can fight ‘em out on the open sea (2x)
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