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ArtistPorcelain Saints I don't know how to feel We live in a broken world I tried to leave but I'm stuck Porcelain saints in a field Their bodies are made of earth I had a dream I woke up So you run away From the white The black The gray But the further you stray The less you find And the more you lose your mind 'Cause when it rains The porcelain saints They turn to clay The further you stray The less you find And the more you lose your mind But I can't escape Porcelain saints Are made of clay I can't escape Porcelain saints Are made of clay I don't know how to feel We live in a broken world I tried to leave but I'm stuck Porcelain saints in a field Their bodies are made of earth I had a dream I woke up
A serene landscape features ethereal statues of a deity amidst vibrant foliage, with a dramatic sky and distant silhouettes of more figures, evoking a mystical and tranquil atmosphere.