LYRIC
First step shine like a silver fox
Then light as feathers from a phoenix swing
That falls to the ground that I… with quick…
It's so… you warm my back 'cause
I try to leave this town behind
There are fox fur and feathers all over the suburbs
And fabric with voices on my mind
The voice have cut a lung in your back
And consonants are glazed along the wet line of
The wet line your eye
…into the sky!
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