Artist: The Mars Volta
Song: Cygnus...Vismund Cygnus

The ocean floor is hidden
From your viewing lens
A depth perception
Languished in the night
All my life, I’ve been
Sewing the wounds
But the seeds sprout
A lachrymal cloud

Niño preparate (Child, prepare yourself)
Que vas sufrir (You're going to suffer)
Niño preparate (Child, prepare yourself)
Salte veneno (Get out the venom)
Niño preparate (Child, prepare yourself)
Salte de aqui (get it out of here)
Niño preparate (Child, prepare yourself)
Labios temblando (Trembling Lips)
Niño preparate (Child, prepare yourself)
Salte veneno (Get out the venom)
Niño preparate (Child, prepare yourself)
Salte de aqui (Get it out of here)
Niño preparate (Child, prepare yourself)
Brincan los cuerpos (The bodies get excited)
Vas a sufrir (you're going to suffer)

My nails peel back
When the taxidermist ruined
Goose stepped the freckling impatience
All the brittle tombs
Five hundred little q’s
I’m splitting hairs to
Match the faces
All night long
I’ll hunt for you
Let me show you what I mean
Sangre (blood)
Sonando (ringing)
De rabia nací (from rage i was born)

Now this train don’t lie
An abortion that survived
A lineage of Bastard mastacation
All the severed proof
Talons scratch my suite
These are the feathers
That replace them
All night I’ll hunt for you
Let me show you what I mean
Sangre (blood)
Sonando (ringing)
De rabia nací (from rage i was born)

Who do you trust
Will they feed us the womb
Chrome the fetal mirage
Will they feed us the womb I found the remnants
Of a crescent fang
It cleaned my wing
Down to the bone
Umbilical syllables
Left to decode
There was no cradle
I can taste it
Come on now

All night I’ll hunt for you
Let me show you what I mean
Sangre (blood)
Sonando (ringing)
De rabia nací (from rage i was born)

Who do you trust
Will they feed us the womb
Chrome the fetal mirage
Will they feed us the womb
Bring me this plague
She took a drink
Those nicotine stains
On his every word
My scavenger quilt
Will only hide the truth
Bring me
Bring me this plague
I count the days to find
What was left behind
Only these names I clutch
Will lead me to my home
Somehow this river marks
A wrinkle hand in mine
And everyday that parts
The water into two
Mothers and feathers start
To drown the living proof
I can’t remember these lakes of blood
Wrapped in a blanket
There sweats a cut
Who do you trust
Will they feed us the womb
Chrome the fetal mirage
Will they feed us the womb

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