Текст песни Throes - Brett Winters

We came from wounded
Birds in the nighttime
They broke our wings as
Ones did before them
We fly unsteady
Wonder what is missing
Cored all our anger
In rings of the tree
Carefully
Treading lightly

We came from wounded
Birds in the unknown
No map for their kind
Vines overgrown
Cartographers, we
Map all their ruins
Building on soft stone
Tracks for our freight trains
Two lanes:
Sane or insane

Soon
We'll come to know
Silence
Soon
We'll feel the throes
Trying, fighting
Hiding, pining