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The Knife
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1
Before there was you
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I was made from the mud
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I would dream of the seed of a flower
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In the threads of my blood
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From deep in my veins
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Gardens would bloom
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But each time the flower would grow
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I would tear out the roots
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I was blinded by your grace
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It's then that I was afraid
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It seemed in that strange light
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That it's you who holds the knife
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When you stood on the stage
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Wearing that little white dress
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A thousand silver horses raced through my chest
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We woke in your room
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To the bedspread and the dawn
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It seemed as if I was dreaming of you all along
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Blinded by your grace
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And it's then I was afraid
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I knew in that strange light
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That it's me who holds the knife
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One day without fear
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A hesitation's curse
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We both would open the curtain
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And rise from the earth
The Knife - 'Pass This On' | FUTURE
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