| Mindnumbflesh waiting on homecell and lost loves found dealin' with scabs
|
| And no one ever lives signin' papers
|
| And bells are fillin' the sky with the schemes from the temperature rises
|
| And bats say wondering claps of dying basalt origins touching waving corner of
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| the eyes
|
| Blind star legions hiding in cauldrons loving girls
|
| No, no man, play number 11, play that number 11… yeah haha
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| The scanners are turned off and I got thirty or forty more minutes
|
| Relationships in real life are so hard to handle
|
| With friendly friends touching breathing my way sultering on my wavelength
|
| Is my phone ringing?
|
| Old gods dying under shades of anti-gravity we come from the water,
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| we came from the air
|
| Pray for good tidings was a thought that kept repeating, but no one could ever
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| find out said they
|
| When will we wake up, and swim into the sounds?
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| Swim into the sounds
|
| Swim into the sounds
|
| Swim into the sounds
|
| Swim into the sounds
|
| Swim into the sounds |