I’m the questioner
It arouses me in the night
It comes through my bones
Crumbling soil
I’m the customer
A charging property
It comes through my bones
Crumbling soil
It runs through my bones
Like smothering in oil
There comes a time you will reap
These fruits of property
And regret some ancient fears
Oh fly away my dear
High from down
From weeds to woods
If you’re the atlas
Then i’m the sea
High from down
From weeds to woods
If you’re the atlas
Then i’m the sea
And as water runs deep
May you’re the atlas and i’m the sea
Comes through your bones
Like smothering in oil
I’m the questioner
It arouses me in the night
It runs through your bones
Crumbling soil
It runs through your bones
Like smothering in oil
There comes a time you will reap
These fruits of property
And regret some ancient fears
Oh fly away
And i can’t get off your mountains
The feather slides to the bank of the sea
The wheel gained higher speed
By the same rituals each day and week
We are kept in our circles while
Circumstances change
Rituals outlive it all
In the land over the hills where the days
Feel reborn like a blood-red sunset
In the land over the hills where the days
Feel reborn like a blood-red sunset
In the land over the hills where the days
Feel reborn like a blood-red sunset
Rituals was written by Frederik Rabe.