Harvest At Dawn Lyrics - Circle Of Dead Children

Everything around me shrinks and expands 

Memories compacted 

Fantasies extracted 

Suspend me from the floor and push the ceiling nearer 

This is just a reenactment of the thoughts projected from your eyes 

The faces and names are not real 

Only the tears, blood and glass are authentic 

We link hands and dreams to become the map of the damned 

Found a wound across my ribs, soft and fresh as a ballet shoe, to finger and feed 

Memories flaccid 

Fantasies reenacted 

Finger and feed 

Finger and feed