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Jon Swift
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The Rhythm We March
Down a westward way toward a blood red setting sun. Sea cliffs beat by wind from the blue-gray wild ocean. Heavy feet and breath cause a quail covey to flight. And I held a hand as I gaze upon the moon light.
The marks are well hidden so the world might still march to the rhythm we march.
Without time or means 更多更详尽歌词 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔镜歌词网 like refugees running. And we travel light for our time it may be coming. And we walk alone for the backlash of our trials. But let's venture on, boldly through the hardest miles.
We leave what we live in so the world might still march to the rhythm we march.
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