| Echoes start as a cross in you
|
| Trembling noises that come to soon
|
| Spatial movement which seems to you
|
| Resonating your mask or feud
|
| Hollow talking and hollow girl
|
| Force it up from the root of pain
|
| Never said it was good, never said it was near
|
| Shadow rises and you are here
|
| And then you cut
|
| You cut it out
|
| And everything
|
| Goes back to the beginning
|
| Silence seizes a cluttered room
|
| Light is shed not a breath too soon
|
| Darkness rises in all you do
|
| Standing and drawn across the room
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| Spatial movements are butterflies
|
| Shadows scatter without a fire
|
| There’s never been bad, there has always been truth
|
| Muted whisper of the things she’ll move
|
| And then you cut
|
| You cut it out
|
| And everything
|
| Goes back to the beginning
|
| There’s never been bad, there has always been truth
|
| Muted whisper of the things she’ll move |