They Are Filled

The Last Bison

These all look to you
For you to bring them food
When their season’s due
When their season’s due

When you give it up to them
They gather and shout amen
You open up your hands
You open up your hands

You hide your face from them
Then you take their breath away
It’s then they are dismayed
It’s then they are dismayed

They die
Return to the dust

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