Из альбома: Peregrine

Common places, haunted past
With all the woods now gone, I knew it wouldn’t last
And all the faces are question marks
Up and down the street, looking down the block
Common places, haunted rooms
Wandering inside, contemplating doom
It marks our faces when we don’t smile
Don’t get me out of bed, I want to lay here a while
So come another day
Today, I just can’t
The faces are out there
This is your last chance
You must, you must come out
You must, you must come out
You must, you must come out
You must, you must come out

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