Growing tired, barely walkingWalking over this sweet graveWinds grew bolder, bruised my shoulderNot much left to saySweet and spare now, holy sparrowSinging softly outside When it’s colder, we’ll feel olderNot much left to hideIn the old times, we made up rhymesTo sing ourselves to sleep at nightIt was wild means, singing horse dreamsDid nothing wrong and nothing rightWe are breathing, we are seethingWe are hardly underwayWe have high hopes like the old popesEven St. Peter’s bones decay
-“St Peter’s Bones” -Girlyman
This turned out unexpectedly melancholy.  Ah well.
Just a Bagginshield sketch I did while listening to the song on repeat.  For aaaaaages.  @_@

Growing tired, barely walking
Walking over this sweet grave
Winds grew bolder, bruised my shoulder
Not much left to say

Sweet and spare now, holy sparrow
Singing softly outside
When it’s colder, we’ll feel older
Not much left to hide

In the old times, we made up rhymes
To sing ourselves to sleep at night
It was wild means, singing horse dreams
Did nothing wrong and nothing right

We are breathing, we are seething
We are hardly underway
We have high hopes like the old popes
Even St. Peter’s bones decay

-“St Peter’s Bones” -Girlyman

This turned out unexpectedly melancholy.  Ah well.

Just a Bagginshield sketch I did while listening to the song on repeat.  For aaaaaages.  @_@