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I Am Oak
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Curt
And I read it like black palms, shapes in the ash
Will we expire and fade like a memory?
I Imagine the purpose, shapes like a mountain
I'm beaten down, I'm down among the animals
and raise your fists like you want to
and raise your voice like mine
raise your fists like you want to
and read my gaze like a book
and I read it like black palms, no shapes and no words
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I'm fightin' doubt and I've come to know my enemies
I Imagine the purpose, shaped like an axis
I've hollowed out and I've come to bare the echoes
and raise your fists like you want to
and raise your voice like mine
raise your fists like you want to
and read my gaze like a book
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