Lyrics Child of Dust - Thrice
Dear
Prodigal,
you
are
my
son
and
I
Supplied
you
not
your
spirit
but
your
shape
All
Eden's
wealth
arrayed
before
your
eyes
I
fathomed
not
you
wanted
to
escape
And
though
I
only
ever
gave
you
love
Like
every
child
you've
chosen
to
rebel
Uprooted
flow'rs
and
filled
their
holes
with
blood
Ask
for
not
whom
they
toll,
the
solemn
bells
A
child
of
dust,
to
mother
now
return
For
every
seed
must
die
before
it
grows
And
though
above
the
world
may
toil
and
turn
No
prying
spade
will
find
you
here
below
Now
safe
beneath
their
wisdom
and
their
feet
Here
I
will
teach
you
truly
how
to
sleep.
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