Songs of saccharine
Bitter tasting, yet so sweet
Her palms face outward
Floral drapes pulled away
A hearth's tepid stone
whistles and walks away
Til the falls ran dry I was up all night chasing time. In the morning it turns around
I hope I’m climbing when I’m down. I hope I’m climbing when I’m down
Cause now I’m not too sure I know which way the rising river flows
On the night I lose control. Oh dear, don’t you let me go.
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