On Still Mountains

echoes of a King
rustle like wind through the crowd
none are moved
none are moved now

on still mountains
we are the sole voice
low on air
we have one chant to sustain us

but all we can say
all we can think
i can’t breathe
i can’t breathe

echoes of a King
rustle like wind through the crowd
none are moved
none are moved now

Leave a comment