Bright Eyes. Lifted Or The Story Is In The Soil, Keep Your Ear To The Ground. Waste of Paint. Bright Eyes. Dvigniti ali Zgodba je v tleh, Naj uho na tla. Odpadki Paint.
... thankful That someone actually receives the prize that was promised By all those fairy tales that drugged us And they still do me, I'm sick, lonely No laurel tree, just green
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