"Perfect" genre: Down Tempo
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	Someone is calling from the field The tall grass is swaying in the wind A man walked up to me And covered up my face A face made up of memories A past made up of grace Today the clouds swallowed my skin And soon the chill will lift me up Now where should I run to? Run to the tall grass A castle made of memories A face made of the past
	Credits: Music by Ian E., lyrics & vox by Nessa V.
	Lyrics Someone is calling from the field The tall grass is swaying in the wind A man walked up to me And covered up my face A face made up of memories A past made up of grace Today the clouds swallowed my skin And soon the chill will lift me up Now where should I run to? Run to the tall grass A castle made of memories A face made of the past

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