death of the moth Lyrics – BLACK LAKE

Shunning Sunday morning stunning sun
Mourning the death of the moth
Who willingly flew into its own grave
In between the glass and screen

Rotting silently
Turning to dust
Your death in my palm was the lake at night
I’m unable to grasp the size

And it’s hard for me to face
I was the one who was in the way
I was the one who was in the way
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BLACK LAKE Lyrics – death of the moth

BLACK LAKE

death of the moth