Splice by Trough Lyrics

Over the hills it's dark
A crow calls
(It's dark)

The ground black and wet
So ripe
In this park

You spent years in shrouds
Of your own making
Loving death
Hating life, immured in memory
Expecting a catastrophe

(It's dark)

Erupting from the sunlight
An emesis of shadow
Your bones dripped clear in spring
Green as a fire of algae
Blue as a flood, the birds come out
Of your eyes, the crows come out
Of your eyes
But it's not the same as it once was