Testo Shaelem The Hunter

skins upon my back
rifle in my hand
and the rifle site
up against my eye
and though my shot is clear
my finger on trigger the drip of skins is all that I can hear

forest is so quite everything so white
nothing moves at all
cept that bear so bold
he moves across the ice
when something half his size
would never go walking on ice so thin

then a memory
comes flooding back to me
last time I saw a bear
was on the day I left
I floated on a tree
right into the city
for days I lived on all that I could drink
the closer that I got
to that metropolis
the water got to stink
so I could not drink
and when I came to rest
on a concrete edge
I stood in awe and horror of it all

so for food and drink
I plundered all their bins
cos every fish I caught
was covered in sores
and when I finally begged
for a chunk of bread
what they tossed into my lap instead

was a coin of gold
so from that day on
I held out my palm
and they flicked their charms
but never did I spend
those pills of corruption
I'd pay one day a boat to take me home

so through my fingers ran
my time yet I would catch
the coins just like the bends
catch the rivers dead
and with the coins my shame
grew until one day
I hauled that weight down to the river bank

now I'm filled with rage
thinking of those days
I've lived like a whore
to my weakest core
and why should I stop now
I'll shoot out all my bile
while crimson grows beneath me in the snow