Mount Marcy - Frontier Ruckus

Mount Marcy - Frontier Ruckus
Mount Marcy is growing sparse
She is the farce
That I would like to tell
From the bottom of your well
Feel the bushes
Brambles rambling
Ample sapling
Suckling all the air
And the North from Marcy's hair
When my death-day comes
When my death-day numbs me
I shall become one
I shall become nothing
And something
Something is the heaven-king for me
Your crucifixion-three-large-hills are
Shadow-making over stilts we built
On the mountain's silt
Marcy you're my fav'rite love
Seventeen and freckled like a soul
To forget you would be so
Hard on me
Hard on me
Hard on me to cut you
From my dream-range
But we shall become one
We shall become nothing
And something
That something is
The heaven-king for me
Birds are chirping
You're usurping
Things that I would never want to tell
From the top of your landfill
Workers smoking
All evoking
Western county
Full of filth and love
To which you're bound above
When my death-day comes
For certain I'll be sorry
For all that I have done indoors
When outside suns were shining
But they are blinding Binding
Reminding me the heaven-king is one