oh, the empires calling,
trying to hear his voice,
while hes preaching to the choir,
and that choir is death and noise.
and he closes up his fist, and he sees if they exist.
angels with broken wings,
melodic harmonies she sings.
she brings you white daffodils,
you place them on your windowsill.
then you open up your fist, and you see if they exist....
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