1. |
Season of Recklessness
05:01
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The time we've spent gathering wool's coming to an end.
Have you grown where you've sown or are you willing to the wind?
My dear feral friend...
I know why I started over
I couldn't just sit and wonder
Perfect flowers, love for old friends, wilting worries, and the stories we mend.
All the songs of yesteryear, how they linger.
Though you're always looking back, do you hear a bellwether?
Ringing in your ear...
I know why I started over
I couldn't just sit and wonder.
Our lives, so brief and small
I'm thankful to know you.
I know why I started over
I couldn't just sit and wonder
Times change, what we sow remains.
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2. |
Lunar Swoon
04:12
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Are you the wolf? Do you cry for the moon?
Are you crushed under waves into it's cycle?
Between black and white, drawn like a moth to the light
Can't you see through this illusion?
This black and white world you've chosen to live in...
Every emotion is a choice.
Drawing down the moon won't withhold the day,
and the coming light isn't gonna stay.
Life's never worked that way.
Learn to make your own happiness
What if the moonlight is only silver tendrils keeping the world afloat?
And when it's waxing or waning, just a sliver, how it feels like we're losing our grip.
You're a lunatic.
Howling at the moon,
This is not who I am.
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3. |
Uncertain Slumber
06:04
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Little bird, I followed you into the hollow
Where the trees, so proud and charming, stood dressed for splendid rest
Crimson and Gold, last remnants of summer's bellow
When I enter, lo-and-behold, they're ready for slumber
In decay I see a beauty that comes from wizened years.
Little bird, sing them a requiem, sing them to sleep,
Sing for me
Crimson and Gold, last remnants of summer's bellow,
When I enter, lo-and-behold, they're ready for slumber
Proudly we stand, enraptured by the coming winter
The unknown beckons again for uncertain slumber.
Lying there, under storied-oaks, where the wind rushed a song into my bones...
Let go of your frame, you've only the lend of it, I suppose,
Until you awake
Crimson and Gold, last remnants of summer's bellow,
When I enter, lo-and-behold, they're ready for slumber
Proudly we stand, enraptured by the coming winter
The unknown beckons again for uncertain slumber.
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