Don't you call any later, as the clock came and ate her
What are we running after? Hear the clock's gentle laughter
Shine as you were, a ghost in a painted field
Oh, Saturday bride, tell what you saw in the night!
I saw God in the skin of the fog
What are we running after? Hear the clock's gentle laughter
Shine as you were, a ghost in a painted field
Oh, Saturday bride, tell what you saw in the night!
I saw God in the skin of the fog
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