The Mist And The Morning Dew - Come, To Think Of It lyrics

When at a morning my feet touches the cold earth, Or what mirrored it into our imagination deeper, It meant dying I'd rather feel the gra** under me. I'd rather have a twig cut a bleeding on a bare foot, Causing pain, Than touch of false moss, under me When I stalk this flat earth Rather hills would I adore When I see false homes Homes for no wanderer to be. I'd more love the shelter of an old fir By day, under her cooling shadow by night hidden From the star's light. When illumes the strange lights Competing with life's own. Held 'em prison I tell you, Held 'em in illusions. I'd rather talk with the sun See the young birch brought to life And by night, sleep under a free moon. When the wind turns north Brings forth the cold I see d**h fleeing to d**h Life left alone. I'd rather smell true d**h Wash myself with burning leaves And by night, sleep under