A Red Season Shade
last light on our walls
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Façades brown. Grey roofs. The broken daylight on our tired faces. Our hands are raised. Straight lines of our pride. Old way home. Back to what we made.
Select language to translate this lyric
Façades brown. Grey roofs. The broken daylight on our tired faces. Our hands are raised. Straight lines of our pride. Old way home. Back to what we made.