Dancing shadows of the things
We don't know a slow intoxication
A frustrating burn that does not think
Again, this will be the first time?
Cascading hope, don't let me think.
That this will be the first time -
Mighty might be somehow
Sung here unto to me now, please.
A twisted turn of the wretched cargo
Then there is nothing left.
The ocean floor makes the beautiful music.
Only when it is in sync.
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