It is clad in obvious plainclothes. It is clad in obvious plainclothes.

A poem that had just been laid To rest. A poem that had just been laid To rest.

I fear the gibbous moon That watches me dress my scars I fear the gibbous moon That watches me dress my scars

I shall scrape its clinging strings, before working on the soul I shall scrape its clinging strings, before working on the soul