black is your tongue and the words that you speak are driven by discord. your veins carry no aesthetics, your art is an accident. on your lips a reddish veil, cursing fl aws of your father, your mother, sister, brothers. this tradition knows no candour, we are swinging back and forth and swayingly, we are cherishing our failures. hush, it's alright it's alright it's alright i will pull you through the night drink up drink up i will drive you home in the early rays of light black is your tongue and the crimes you commit are washed up as you sing. our traditions know no candour, we are swinging back and forth.

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