The Dying Kind - Joy Williams

From the earth, you were made

To the earth, you returned

And I’ll always speak your name

Let it burn, let it burn

Chase them before running oceans can sting

Bathe in holy water, drown until you sing

Til you sing

Stand there in the garden, in the trees

Taste the good and evil, fall down on your knees

In front of me

Every rose has its thorn;

every thorn has its crown

We’re all the dying kind

Every rose has its thorn;

every thorn has its crown

We’re all the dying kind

Bow your head in silence, in shadows pray

Lay down in the darkness;

let it see your face

Don’t be afraid

Every rose has its thorn;

every thorn has its crown

We’re all the dying kind

Every rose has its thorn;

every thorn has its crown

We’re all the dying kind

From the earth, you were made

To the earth, you returned

And I’ll always speak your name

Let it burn, let it burn