Cast Iron Hike - Workhorse

In the morning
When the cold hurts
Most starvation cancers
Within its host
This is frightening
And this is profane
The way that we ease into age
We only need this bread
To let us know that
Hunger lies unaligned
With being alone
Age secures us
Our space in the storm Where we will weather worn
Like a well worked whore
Time will take us
By our tender wounds
And it'll scab us hard
And leave us blue
White light..
This can't be right
One life?
Despite who knew that
I didn't want to be with you
I don't want to die alone