On dry land
I see you, little stone
No silver chord had made you
No one had blessed you
You are not from here
You came from hell
The fruits you bear
If you exist at all
Will be our end, little stone
I see you, little stone
No silver chord had made you
No one had blessed you
You are not from here
You came from hell
The fruits you bear
If you exist at all
Will be our end, little stone
Cool, thanks for sharing.