Из альбома: Miike Snow
Last call for everything.
A pool of emmalines delirious
She lingers like a chain
It's more than grave but not to serious.
Send your reverie to me
Faker.
Into the mouth of green morning,
Faker.
I am so wide awake
The wind is moving blossoms through the door.
It's more than I can take
But half as much as what it was before.
Send your reverie to me
Faker.
Into the mouth of green morning,
Faker.