Poets Of Dirt Lyrics - Dew-scented

The gone staying by me 

Feeling disease, crying sun 

Soil adorning me, preparing to grow 

Fever, disgust, dear sigh 

Bewatching the truth, morals to break 

Catch soon the breeze, immortals 

And if my tears were only joyful 

I would better rest in silence 

Instead of writing down my claims 

To pleasure such a lonely road 

A sombre tangle to disclose 

The damned poets of dirt 

Lake fulfilled with sand, prayers of lies 

Wishing disease, unholy blue 

Is covering meand our sins 

Forever gone, trapped in life