In your blue room sit with a candle lit
On a charcoal bed of dreams you carry on
Though the streets are hot you can still a lot
But you can walk out and forget there isn't time to take a loan
But you're now into something that you were immune to before
And there wasn't a sign you just fell into line at the door
trace
thought
though
thing
support
wretches
stick
scare
sands
there
palms
charcoal
wondering
dreams
something
alone
before
candle
still
question
landing
comes
decide
hands
sudden
pieces
carry
forget
minds
their
immune
floor
mantel
moments
short
picking
emptiness
place
streets
plastic
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