The birds stand together,
waiting for the dying.
Like totem spirits, they try to make me see.
They hold your secrets,
and they know when you are lying.
You have never been who you claimed to be.
04.02.09
day in, day out, and maybe a skip here and there
The birds stand together,
waiting for the dying.
Like totem spirits, they try to make me see.
They hold your secrets,
and they know when you are lying.
You have never been who you claimed to be.
04.02.09
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