With the scent of damp ground and woodsmoke
Nature’s incense unfurls
Sated by carrion, the watchers land and gather
Branches hang heavy as they observe
For their memory, for their pain
For their very essence I walk the crowpath
With the scent of damp ground and woodsmoke
Nature’s incense unfurls
Sated by carrion, the watchers land and gather
Branches hang heavy as they observe
For their memory, for their pain
For their very essence I walk the crowpath