
Last night, right, I dreamed I was drowning in a river of blood. It was slow-moving, like, and full of bones. I just knew it wasn't fresh, neither - it'd been pouring out of a deep gash in the land for millennia. And then I woke up and it was back to the real river of blood, back to this place full of ghosts older'n most countries and spirits what've eaten century after century full of war. Whole country's a boneyard, mate. An' here we are pickin' our way among the bones."