Deerskin Doll - Wovenhand

You are a fine noise

I must take care for you

My heart my head to the ground

To speak of such things

As the sound of your wings

I have not the breath

In my brides eye

And by her side

And by her side

You are the noise

The elktooth chain

Lovely in the rivers mirror

You stand in my circle

The circle of my center here

It will take some time

To get to this point

Remember you are spinning

Around the room

I dare not rest

My hands on my chest

Vashene osh miashte means yes

Means yes

The branches all creek together

All out in the open

Inside a roaring figure on the wall

The streets are cobbled just for you

The silver sun in my cellar well too

I hear a mocking voice