We only speak through these machines.
Bending blades of grass,
cutting rings into trees.
I drag myself from this bed we've made,
our warmth has escaped.
I know these fronts will change.
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We only speak through these machines.
Bending blades of grass,
cutting rings into trees.
I drag myself from this bed we've made,
our warmth has escaped.
I know these fronts will change.