Rot

I lay you down to rest

Upon the hill Apollo left

Await the fear of death

Sucking in, your last breath

When it's over

I will climb

No stone unturned

By your design

Next October

Crows will fly

Pick a hole in your chest

And live inside

You made your choices when

You crucified the morning hen

A generation left

Without a notion what comes next

What comes next

When it's over

I will climb

No stone unturned

By your design

Next October

Crows will fly

Pick a hole in your chest

And live inside

And live inside