Matter - Arcane Roots

Wait, it will come

Cold, to the touch

Pray it will call and answer

But I’ll try to make you feel the hurt

Ever creeping closer

I will wait

Through distraction

Through the taste

And maybe nothing comes of age

The cruellest patterns find the vein

Feel the hurt

Holy child

Through the womb

Do you cry?

Say the word

Crawl to her

Like a worm in the dirt

As our breathing falters

Slowing pace

Through the matter

Through the waste

Failing nothing

Lie in wait

A cruel distortion finds a name

Ever creeping closer, finds the vein

Feel the hurt

Holy child

Through the womb

Do you cry?

Say the word

Crawl to her

Like a worm in the dirt

Turning it to the light

A needle to the curve

Failing we’re losing sight

Of all that was learnt

Watching the pieces fall now

And witness your word

See how the faces fade

With my fingers to the bone