This is my fault A rancid wind by your sweet lips Is shaking My family tree and ridding me Of these rotten fruit That I love so completely Their evil is not their own It is a ripe mould I have tenderly grown And placed gently in their sweet and pliable teeth I am just a coward in your long embrace I will filter every inch of soil through my face Kissing every rock and every worm to see You lay my children's ugliness at my feet For they are pure! And I am wretched And all my gardens I am death I am infected Oh Death, Death, Death I am just a coward in your long embrace I will filter every inch of soil through my face Kissing every rock and every worm to see You lay my children's ugliness at my feet I am just a coward in your long embrace I will filter every inch of soil through my face Kissing every rock and every worm to see You lay my children's ugliness at my feet Oh Death, Death, Death Oh Death, Death, Death Oh Death, Death, Death Oh Death, Death, Death