Stye sky
And a morning rise
There's nothing left in the quiet
I constructed a map of the islands
That we crossed
To grab
Hold of our
Stye sky in your headsick
Bruises on yr skin
Peel the pages off the limbs
Stye sky
And a morning rise
There's nothing left in the quiet
I constructed a map of the islands
That we crossed
To grab
Hold of our
Stye sky in your headsick
Bruises on yr skin
Peel the pages off the limbs
Stye sky
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