Life is a clay urn on the mantle And I am shattered on the floor Life is a clay urn on the mantle And I am scattered on the floor We are the wounds and the great cold death of the earth. . . "Earth is floating on the waters like an island, Hanging from four rawhide ropes Fastened at the top of the Sacred four directions. The ropes are tied to the ceiling of the sky, When the ropes break, this world will come Tumbling down and all living things will fall with it and die. . ." Life is a clay urn on the mantle And I am the fragments on the floor Life is a clay urn on the mantle And I am the ashes on the floor We are the wounds and the great cold death of the earth Darkness and silence, the light shall flicker out. . .