The Culling - Intellectual

[Verse 1]

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'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