Lyrics
With a thin layer of smog, much like that of east L.A. each tear-driven summer dawn, where is your sun at these moments? For we who know truth best, acknowledge without the slightest glimpse only one, will always make its journey through every layer destined for your ruin. Finding comfort confronts empty desires for brighter impact. And life sets her struggle, roots are last hopes for true revival of spirit. For with that shriveled, yet still damp note held so tightly in hand, satin contemplates disaster through those two... beaming, always leaping uncaloused viewpoints where endearment locates omega. In the end I know my outcome, so joy shall precede and overturn darkest gray that finds its parallel spirit with frustration.
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