garden hangs inside a room so dark, yet brightly lit The stain you poured from silver spoon the poison stung and bit With the sound of your machine
The garden hangs inside a room so dark, yet brightly lit The stain you poured from silver spoon the poison stung and bit With the sound of your machine
my pale sister Magician among the spirits I said how much I miss her Jackson on the slipstream, he's moving all around Chasing tiny orphans, following the sounds
reason, breathing short as the text on the wall. Whenever the dog moved, the night trembled, shimmering like water moved by leaves in a forest. Marks
fathers finest clothes you the hat he wore to market I the jacket filled with holes I've been searchins all these hours for a hand as pale as bone that
sounds habitual for us are dipping into absolute darkness Leaving us alone with obscurity Pale Moon breaking through the leaden clouds Lights forgotten cemetery with pale
