Carelessly through the night-time
I recollect the day flow
They are not ordinary
But are trapped in a black hole
Where moons are lonely swinging
Without the pleasure of sound
I recollect the day flow
They are not ordinary
But are trapped in a black hole
Where moons are lonely swinging
Without the pleasure of sound
A life that's ordinary
A dry stick hole in the sun
Where crumpled masterpieces
Find little things with large holes
Large holes
Large holes..
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