(A violent yet) flammable world
Tonight I sleep to dream
Of a place that's calling me
It is always just a dream
Still I cannot forget what I have seen
I don't want to lose myself
It's a whisper, It's a funny thing
We fold like icicles on paper shelves
It's a pity to appear this way
Hold, hold, hold on
I swear I saw it somewhere
Waving, wading, one, two, three, above the wakes that follow
I don't want to lose myself
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