Amongst The Nomads from Monologue

And to sharpen my claws Is to ask of my thorns To grow out of me, inside And sew me to the ground Static and wooden eyed I worry very well How all around Is breathing death I will weave my towers high And all of us, we’ll climb Setting forth, from now on Disappear into the wild But by the time We’ll reach the sea The sand will get us Above our knees Though our eyes did not see clear And our mouths could not speak free We became aware Of the crosses that we share We used to stand so tall We used to speak for all We used to walk in line Further and further and further Sailing on bad tide