Chris cohen - Sweet william

Don't you love that struggle
Don't think music's real let the ethics of sleep
Turn on its own wheel
Let's get drunk in the fields tonight
Like melons

Now that I'm seen
Pain and skill, pain and skill, pain and skill
Pain and skill, pain and skill
Read like a dream
The body's language is hard
Like solitaire without cards

Faces unsolved
Still appear, still appear, still appear
Still appear, still appear
The language, the body lingers on
Like music lost in the fog

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