Romneydale

Oh, pictures of Romneydale still surge through my brain

The last lady standing there with her backwards name

You could not say it forwards

You could not give it a sound

I stood there on my hiding day far outside of town

And I lift my head

Not to be fed

Into her awful ground

I'll be scattered like bees on vines

With their own group mind

When you're stuck in the pictures of you

You're all wrapped up now

In your new costume

And the lights grow dim as

You fade in your tomb

The mirror is selfish it holds

Onto you

Will I ever be seen

In a light that's true

If my body leaves, is my soul made new?

The name is backwards

You cannot give it a sound

Well, I'm over there

I got a way to get home

Again, I'm so fine

When I get both

Ends in Romneydale

I'll be there on the rocks

The jagged rocks, counting waves

Across my animal sky

Two birds always sing

From the left

And from the right

Don't get close to one side

Oh, when I die in the tide

Where she dwells holding onto my body

Will be my only hell