This is a dead letter tale

If i could make this print talk

You made a deep mark/deep mark on me

And only saints say such things as those

So i slid under the floor

Under the oak and the iron

With you under oak and iron

Under the thick and under the thin

Where only fire grows





I forgot to tell you several things-ma

I forgot to tell you 'bout the 7 sins



And i spat dead letter words

And all the breath that i own

Imprinted one word in red/i read

And only saints say such things as these

(about the marks on your throat)

Under the oak and the iron

Under the fat and the thick and the thin

And all of that, and a few 100 more

And only fire grow

I heard the fire grow

Alone in the......




more