Going down, your naked body quake The sun that eats the meadow, Is a suicide Mother wound, the tilted sky we stole Its images will shatter, Everything we are All to nothing We yearn Wounded in postures of birth Going down, crying in our sleep As we implore the border, For the things we fear Tender hands, caress your shivering back The truth you bear will murder, everything You are All to nothing We yearn Wounded in postures of birth All to nothing, we yearn Wounded in masks Breathing blood You're running down my legs The scars I bear shall witness Amidst the brooding trail All to nothing We yearn Wounded in postures of birth All to nothing, we yearn Wounded in masks