The Culling - Chelsea Wolfe

Dead eyes, I only call you when you’re in my dreams

Died too young, the culling then, it was obscene

I am depleted by love

I am depleted by love

I’ll never tell the secrets of my family

Bled out, a cult of anonymity

The kettle is wheeling, my love

Riding on the back of a hell they caused

One ear to the ground

One eye on the room

My tongue on your pulse

My finger in your wound

Sweet dead eyes, I long to hear you again

Sweet dead eyes, I long to see your face

Sweet dead eyes, I long for that illustrious hiss

Sweet dead eyes, I know you feel it

No turning back

Only God knows what we’re headed for

The flowers bloom, the sun rises

Flux, hiss, welt, groan

Flux, hiss, welt, groan

Flux, hiss, welt, groan

Flux, hiss, welt, groan

Flux, hiss, welt, groan

Flux, hiss, welt, groan