Fourths us again to come to man
After the season when the sun is bound
It seems like the winter is at her feet
Despite all the flu sign it’s time for me
Sweet is the sound to make homes grey
The sun to the widows who have their say
Lies in the south inside the nose
Dead in the basement to the song
Feels like the autumn burst into the flames
It makes this adequate to call out your name
Passing of the seasons has been felt before
Chills our perceptions of the world before
Carries home on the broken wing
More than a message for the sweet insane
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Fourths
Sun River
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