This Syrup to Exchange

Powderfinger

This Syrup to Exchange

It’s early rise

His teeth are firm

And cleanse with hands to hunt and hope

The sun divieds

Imagine leaves

A shelter while I sleep

There are many years

To cloud my mind

Nut no burden

It’s like a heavy tipping load

Early day

On a bloddied patch

Only noise and brick surround

Tradition sinks

In the soil here

As a rock swallowed in the mud

The polluted skin

Of my brittle earth

It keeps me bleeding grey

This syrup sweet and thin to exchange me

My spirit has rearranged

Crippled, damped and lame

As it goes

This syrup fills my eyes

The days faces fade to black

And I don’t feel

And I can’t fight

For my home anymore

Anymore

And I return to an open land

Where bloods blanket sheilded me

This syrup sweet and thin to exchange me

My spirit has rearranged

Crippled, damped and lame


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