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Artiste:
Flatliners (The)
Titre:
Birds Of England
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After dark and only then, does life resemble the face of an old friend much can be said for a glass half full held by a cowards grip I'll forever ramble Singing syllables inside my head all the awful words that you deserve to hear but never will again Birds of England take me high Atop this burning tree line Sending signals up with smoke I'm never coming home Never coming home After dark and only then Can our broken, battered spirits come to mend Birds of England take me high Atop this burning tree line Sending signals up with smoke I'm never coming home Never coming home Singing syllables inside my head all the awful words that you deserve to hear but never will again Birds of England take me high Atop this burning tree line Sending signals up with smoke I'm never coming home Never coming home