Modern Rituals - The Bull Never Wins

It's a sunken looking rotten pit
and I'm not afraid to use it.
There's a freezing space beneath it,
With a ring and a clink.

You'll be howling up at the sky
while crawling down with your fingers in deep.
As your eyes begin to close,
Clinging in for sleep.

As your eyes begin to close
Feel the loosening of the rope.
Feel the shiver down below.
As your crawl there, as you fall there.

Just enough to shed the load,
Drenching the dirt in your clothes.
Enough to feel the cloth
on your toes there, on your moles there.

The bull never wins.

Don't see the end of the hose
as it emerges above.
With fingers usually of love,
Now they trap the flow.

Written by:
Thomas Hill, Jake Dore, Robert Hollamby, Harry Fanshawe

Publisher:
Lyrics © Sentric Music

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