Your body looks much older, then your loose laced books
Binding themes of colors, eyeing fatherless crooks
Sifting through the darkness these thieves are feeling

Their lonely mother's hearts, her breasts were born stealing

Your young eyes are drying, salted by the sea
Drawing on the crew, tones of past dreams
I want to be ashamed, I want you to feel the same
We get along with words, and could still widely curves

Through curly weather, we made fools of tone benders
The thunder despises the lightning for ignoring all of its frightening

A world of bright magicians appeared as sad musicians
They knew the secret to life, a tribe that fears the night

Grab a hold of dusty moons
Wrap ribbons of clean moons
Fear is the only news
Your dusty mouth will spew

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