CAPA/TRACKLIST
Letra : Thorn Farmer
First ring I ever drew still hurts the last thing I ever
drew
Telling myself just one more year until the last shovel
of dirt
Spending forever doting on each circle of graphite
Each fresh ring a hoop that marks my not passing on
Safe places are vaccuums, filling with sadness, without
spark
Plucked out of a patch of sun, I tried to refill you
Wrapped in burlap
My first born dead
How many children do I have to bury before I am allowed
to end
Why doesn't the ghost speak, instead stare accusing
drew
Telling myself just one more year until the last shovel
of dirt
Spending forever doting on each circle of graphite
Each fresh ring a hoop that marks my not passing on
Safe places are vaccuums, filling with sadness, without
spark
Plucked out of a patch of sun, I tried to refill you
Wrapped in burlap
My first born dead
How many children do I have to bury before I am allowed
to end
Why doesn't the ghost speak, instead stare accusing
