A wicked glow arrives from numberless time And the stars seem closer than you do The space without is overloaded With the ghosts of little things
Leave your teeth, your ill feeling
It's July and you've decided To meet the crows and cast the ashes Impossible, a missing spider I hear the echoes of their voice
Just empty memories
Been minus days and clothed in waves of lost Stuck in mud kicking and clawing Stationary, situationary Since you sliced my ears in two
Leave your teeth in between Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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