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Lonesome Wyatt and The Holy Spooks - Never Coming Home | Текст песни

Over this hill there’s happiness
Just around the bend there’s happiness
Oh I wish that it were so
All our precious work is meaningless
In the cold vacuum of time it’s meaningless
And we know that it is so
Searching through these ruins for tenderness
Clutching in the dark for tenderness

But we always come up cold
Behold our slow decline to nothingness
We fight but we are blind to nothingness
Oh we’re never coming home

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