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William Fitzsimmons

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William Fitzsimmons

The Tide Pulls from the Moon

Lyricist：William Richard Fitzsimmons Ii

So like your father in the face and blood
Terrified and cold
And whispers the coming of a cleansing flood
For you

You hide your filthy hands from all of us
Still unseen and tied
What water these killing hands could ever clean
Still you run

I want to be changed
From the shadow and the tomb
Like water rushing over us
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The tide pulls from the moon

Your mother, the passing of a silver ring
Over-sized and cold
This specter will walk the halls of every seed
From you

I want to be changed
From the shadow and the tomb
Like water rushing over us
The tide pulls from the moon
The tide pulls from the moon