Thursday 21 August 2008 photo 2/2
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There is nothing we can do, The sky, it burns itself, And I think we're all about to fucking die, The trees rot down to nothing, Throats dry out and corpses fill these sidewalks, These promenades, our graveyards, Kneeling down on what's left, sacrificed upon dooms day, Oh, if we could take it back and see one last twilight,
Annons