Marching Church Your Father's Eyes
I heard you talking in your sleep
I heard you crying out
You were telling tales I did not know
Were living in your mind
I wish I had been sleeping then
Because of what I heard
Such unspeakable cruelty that took place when you, on your knees
Had to ingest something uncomprehensible
Knowing now
I must admit
That when I look at you
Sitting in the windowsill
Your traits, they appear changed
I heard you talking in your sleep
I heard you crying out
Even though you have your father's eyes
It didn't stop him that foul night
Of having his way right there on the kitchen floor
Swaying in your willows
Buried in your soil
Advantage in the sudden to
Corruption of your smile, my love
And how we lie together
Time and time again
As wife and husband in our bed
I can't help picture him, my love
I can't help to picture
I can't help to picture him
If I could just go back and put a stop to it
I'd give just everything
I'd blind myself
I'd deafen myself
I'd blind myself
I'd give anything
But no, I can't help
I can't help to see him coming over you
Over you
Over you
Over you