Ephel Duath - Feathers Under My Skin

Rootless I wonder against my balance point Silence unwraps the weight of being And there I lie Untouched by emotions of sort I fight back my own human smell Inhaling rain and dirt I find shelter under beds of leaves I fail to hide my claws again Spitting on what I'm called to be I scratch my skin deep down looking for feathers What I am is what I'm not Acceptance is that road I walk away from I lead with pride my own disasters Denying I learn I'll look at birds' eyes to get the answers I need Light pulses through my nails I draw my new self with it A spinning top in constant motion While my face Like a watchtower remains still My sight keeps aiming at the horizon As far as it can get Unfit to find any rest I wish to transfigure in rocks or sediment Motionless desires obstruct my run I can't find a way to hide from these walls Urban decay is black oil dripping on my wings I cry diamonds of salt I feed myself with them Every drop cuts my throat deep to the spine Till my voice shrinks to a bloody wisper Lost among the lost I keep moving While my feet can't find any grip on the ground I refuse the colours I see I'll feed crows with my eyeballs And keep just darkness for me I keep just darkness for me What I am is what I am not What I am not is what I'm cursed to be.