A desert with no life but scorpions
Coming as a swarm, as a flood
With an abundance of deadly stings...
One for every remembrance
One for every comforting echo of the past
For blithe days of hope turned sour
Coming as a swarm, as a flood
With an abundance of deadly stings...
One for every remembrance
One for every comforting echo of the past
For blithe days of hope turned sour
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