Featherframe
Pale saints
Losing everything
The frame on which you hang
The constant
The source of pain
The frame on which you hang
The constant
The source of pain
Losing everything
That she should bring
Waking up the
Held inside the
Moving space is left to take your place
Of colours against the grain
Feel glass eyes
Waking up the
Held inside the
He says waking up
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