Witherbloom (Get Your Hands Dirty)

Mud on my hands, breathe in the loam Roots in the marrow, rot in the bone We don’t pray to light or throne We learn what decays when left alone Fungal veins beneath the skin Every end feeds what begins Drink the dark, return it whole Life is borrowed, death is loaned Count the pulses in the dirt Every cure begins with hurt We are Witherbloom Green and black We take the life And give it back From blood to soil From soil to bloom GET YOUR HANDS DIRTY Pests crawl close, they know my name Little bodies, burning flame Feed the wound, consume the waste Nothing sacred left to save Bone to broth, leaf to ash Vital signs in fungal math We don’t fear the quiet end We compost gods and call it balance Cut the stem to save the root Decay is just another route We are Witherbloom Green and black We take the life And give it back From blood to soil From soil to bloom GET YOUR HANDS DIRTY Rot… Bloom… We are Witherbloom Green and black We take the life And give it back From blood to soil From soil to bloom… We are Witherbloom Essence fed Healing grown From what’s left dead Drink the dark Survive the truth GET YOUR HANDS DIRTY