[instrumental]
the sands of waste raced through my fingers on the
cold, distant light...
in this stale instant I might
believe I might
I'm breaking windows in the hollows of your eyes..
slip inside
all speaking tounges and backwards
voices fading through the fire Cthulu
and every night it begins again... asleep in your eyes,
from a distance I see this cynical world has come
across the children close, beyond the faces where I hide
in
I wake into the day upon the dawn of apathy
here
this darkening winter blows across my aching heart
my strength is
in the dark of night I watch the shadows loom
the
is your skin a nervous wreck whatever shape
it's in and
[instrumental]
and there's a shadow beneath the sun
and shadows in the
it seems so hard to find it, the window in
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