cartographist - Purity Ring

We’ll bathe often in light of the moon

We’ll sew clothes from the stem of our womb

We’ll bathe often in light of the moon

We’ll sew clothes from the stem of our womb

Oh, my sweet fairy

The past is strong, strong, strong

Touch not my bosom for I’ll not get far, far

Color your cartography in your dreams of me

Maps will not lie, will not lie, will not lie in me

Grow into gardens, the caverns you found in me

Heal off the weightless you held from the start of me

Oh, my sweet fairy

Our hearts did us wrong

But rudders of bodies doth carry us on, on

And more moons than our eyes can recount and store

Yet they bid that we see the same things

Sweet, they bid that we swim in their sea

Well then, the amber woods are pouting

Lie down to keep our heads from falling

Give in to these seeds beneath me

Measure that they do in time harvest