|
short sleeves and warm skin |
|
losing coins calling next of kin |
|
dropping words about the city were in |
|
ponds compressed by heavy air |
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us without care just sprawling there |
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gods in our world |
|
airports and undergrounds |
|
waiting to find the unfound |
|
rising to pure insanity |
|
here when you want me |
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true love has no simplicity |
|
gods in our world |
|
you and i were going so high |
|
the air is getting thin |
|
our land does not breathe in |
|
we don't need oxygen |
|
its dreams that bind us and locks us in |
|
the rest are impaled by sense |
|
you and i were going so high |
|
the air is getting thin |
|
our land does not breathe in |
|
we don't need oxygen |
|
its dreams that bind us and locks us in |
|
the rest are impaled by sense |