prince rama of ayodhya - mothlight | Текст песни

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• prince rama of ayodhya
• mothlight

You could conjure up a garden of brightly coloured words they shimmer and sparkle with cadence they grow in the cracks in the pavement but all you can see is victorian manners of vermillion eyelids white knuckles clasping a book with no pages will you ever know the raptures infernal? your breath is eternal, but blows only though you your eyes are all white an antelope summons you come,come,come in come in to the mothlight come,come,come in come in to the mothlight come,come,come in come in to the mothlight come,come,come in come in to the mothlight come,come,come in come in to the mothlight come,come,come in come in to the mothlight come,come,come in come in to the mothlight come,come,come in come in to the mothlight of this world of this world, of this word of this world, of this world we want nothing, we want nothing of this world we want nothing, we want nothing

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