Tigris’s spell sold some of us straight to the sea
With visions in rows of white blossoms, and the orchard is offering seeds
I stammer my words of less diction cause some of em’ drip with macabre
Cause I see four hundred bones in silence, but nine of them makin’ the laws

Sisters of rope tie all of us down near the tracks
Where the claws of the earth vex bodies while the sisters lie sheets over stacks of em’
I shouted with wrath “Your tokens have bought you the blood of the fox!”
For lead us you may down six feet
We see empirical graves with empirical clocks

Lyrics submitted by Yattering

Catacombs And Orchards song meanings
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