England in 1819
air that we once breathed
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And in the mean time, a shadow, a wave over paper. Light burns away. Hours seemed to be days in the eyes of those still drawing. Darkness in, grows on, sight. I won't die howling, we're better off this way. So leave me on the hunt, with spring born from our lungs, with the air that we once breathed.
- Album:
- Alma
- Three Cheers for Bertie