A head of the state is in my bed
Look into those coals and surely its dead
A dream about the blood in jars
And on the ceiling, flecked like stars
Oh what a way to begin the day
Suffer all the bad news if I may
My dreams are all anchored in real life
And flecked on the ceiling, like stars
Look into those coals and surely its dead
A dream about the blood in jars
And on the ceiling, flecked like stars
Oh what a way to begin the day
Suffer all the bad news if I may
My dreams are all anchored in real life
And flecked on the ceiling, like stars
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