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The Tide Pulls From The Moon - William Fitzsimmons
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The Tide Pulls From The Moon William Fitzsimmons

The Tide Pulls From The Moon - William Fitzsimmons
[Verse 1]
So like your
Father in the face and blood
Terrified and cold
And whispers
The coming of a cleansing flood
For you

[Verse 2]
You hide your
Filthy hands from all of us
Still unseen and tied
What water
These killing hands could ever clean
Still you run

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

[Verse 3]
Your mother
The passing of a silver ring
Over-sized and cold
This specter
Will walk the halls of every seed
From you
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