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And With Her Came the Birds
Cult of Luna
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Night falls, silence takes a grip
Guilt I retrieved, a burning will to die
I need this to be over before I am bleeding dry
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Somewhere along the highway these tracks must end
I pass a crowd on my way to the house on the hill
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Dead man with pitchfork arms tells me all that he knows
Leave me here for the crows
In the fall she came back, and with her the birds
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