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The Journalist Video (MV)






Echelons Aka Unable to Fully Embrace This Happiness - The Journalist Lyrics




Livestream of a suicide
Don't you have children of your own?
Fourteen pages by the end of the week
It is always darkest before the dawn
And you can't know what this server will spawn
But the smell of smoke won't leave my clothes
The weather smells of leaves and I stop to stumble
Just to see March flourish to April
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Livestream of a suicide
Don't you have children of your own?
Fourteen pages by the end of the week
It is always darkest before the dawn
And you can't know what this server will spawn
But the smell of smoke won't leave my clothes
The weather smells of leaves and I stop to stumble
Just to see March flourish to April
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Béla Daniel
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid


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