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. . .