Every morning, when he’s awake
a taste of, of iron
No laughter no laughter
a taste of iron in his mouth

The smell of mold,
from the concrete walls
no laughter
inside the walls

Every morning, when he’s awake
a taste of, of iron
No laughter no laughter
a taste of iron in his mouth

All he want, is her a
new pair of shoes
To seal her skin on,
on her lonely walk
in the valleys of tomé
on her lonely walk,
in the valleys of tomé