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• Artiste: Pale Saints
• Titre: Language Of Flowers
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see me a snapshot narrating my previous life and a mountain of other lies numbers and letters and letters surfacing from a sea of treacle blackened stone(?) and carrying me back home i hear the language of flowers and now i don't hear anything else voices from nowhere seducing me to all the lyrics(?) of the world the balance has been disturbed time stumbles drunkenly wild lives are frozen(?) until they're born again ripening in the sun i hear the language of flowers and now i don't hear anything else i wasn't cut out for this but my heart was(?) i wasn't cut out for this