They had little time to hear a story of my own
i miss the texture and scriptures of my Bone
i see old times in these, safe dependable fingers
my deep breaths keep me above
unusual cold in chest
let me raise a stream
in my deep dream
cannot laugh so high to pierce a goblet
i miss the texture and scriptures of my Bone
i see old times in these, safe dependable fingers
my deep breaths keep me above
unusual cold in chest
let me raise a stream
in my deep dream
cannot laugh so high to pierce a goblet
this is a huge reservoir of bitter chirping
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