Lletres: Haste The Day. An Adult Tree.

So cold, your icy fingers around my neck.
You offer these rotten apples, begging me to taste and see.
I'll take just one bite.
I know your coming like a bad dream when your demons fall to place, perverting all the answers.
Corrupting what's inside you, believing everything, cut deeper to the core.
But we know what's inside.
Go to bed, young dreamer.
A prophet you'll arise to call us out.
Go to bed, young dreamer.
You tell of our decline, but you follow us down.

(We know what's inside)
The breathe of a fallen angel brings death if you breathe it in,
although you know what dwells inside.

[x2]
To bite down, to chew, and to swallow.
To muscle it down to dissolve.
Bed ridden, shivering fever.
Follow it down.

[x2]
Your icy fingers around my neck.
Offering destruction, begging me to taste and see.
So I take just one bite.
It's the poison in your veins.
It's the shiver down your spine.
Cut deeper to the core.
But we know what's inside.
To bite down, to chew, and to swallow.
To muscle it down to dissolve.
Bed ridden, shivering fever.
To follow it down.

[x2]
And we know you'll bite down and you'll follow us under the ground.
Go to bed, young dreamer.
A prophet you'll arise to call us out.
Go to bed, young dreamer.
You tell of our decline, but you follow us down.
(We know what's inside)