Murder By Death - Canyon Inn, Room 16 | Текст песни

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• Murder By Death
• Canyon Inn, Room 16

Your hourglass shape in the light
Half covered in cloth, the rest untouched

Thinking I don't feel like being a sentimentalist today
And whispering, "Wake up, wake up, the rain is slowing"

Touching a hand to a head, the static of the radio humming
Someone humming something pretty off where the antenna just can't reach


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