I’m wasted, losing time I’m a foolish, fragile spin, I want all that is not mine, I want him but we’re not right
In the darkness I will meet my creators. And they will all agree, that I’m a suffocator. I should go now quietly. For my bones have found a place to lie down and sleep, where all my layers can become reeds
All my limbs can become trees, all my children can become me. What a mess I leave
To follow, To follow, To follow, To follow
In the darkness I will meet my creators. They will all agree that I’m a suffocator. Suffocator, Suffocator
Oh no, I’m sorry if I smothered you, I’m sorry if I smothered you
I sometimes wish I’d stayed inside my mother. My mother. Never to come out
When we first saw this piece by Jane and Louise Wilson, we were instantly reminded of a line from the song. It was, all my limbs have become trees, and it’s about when humans die and their bodies decay, they return to the earth and the earth accepts everything back.