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Bethlehem - Funereal Owlblood lyrics
The night grows pale as with faint wing stroke the cradle of decay emerges from the ruins of reason the roaring silence sinks under the new trial which escapes with speechless ardor into decline i tasted the morning dew on a withered leaf and forgot the acrimonious unrest which awoke during the moon-shine coz' only me is the frame and the blood and i open your door into autumn |
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