not so gorgeous.
real feathers...
your native.
Where's so much blood in it.
I count perfect lambs...
running on my walls...
blooming in room...
Lamps illuminate.
real feathers...
your native.
not so gorgeous.
Where's so much blood in it.
You're sitting on the corner.
drinking beer, watching game on TV.
missing your hugs, your hugs.
Our eyes are empty.
Our minds are guilty.
Where's so much blood in it.
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