- Lyrics
- Album list
BLOWSOM
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Sun
Take the words, the sun they cannot misly The feel, the tears, the nothing's sad still The taste, the dizzy pointman does not exist
the trade and traps, the feeling but nothing's that real the coming breathes and friends can, can, can
They really wanna speech him All the sand spreads Shaved...
The night, the trick, the funeral of the great son They couldn't, was worse than the ants all the The taste of the expectation is coming just fine
the trade and traps, the feeling but nothing's that real
the light of sheeps is driving down Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com the storage of lost clouds
Imagine that planes seen stage of huge crowds The echo tease pears no ones the follows fade out
You call me weird and friends can, can, can, can they really wanna speech him All the sand spreads shaved...
You call me ... and frase Again, again, again
they really wanna speech him All the sand spreads shaved...
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