In the night where I live
There's strange force in your kiss oh.
All's divine in desire.
With an ire of philosophy
Burning scrolls in the naked heat
Oh how coy is your little boy. No!
Cause I know it don't read that well. Yeah
I got buried; no it won't be long, before I rise in
I got buried; no it won't be long, yeah
In the night where I live
Your children sway they fuel the kitch.
Raise their glass to soviet cries in the ward
And in shadows.
Outright, in times of old
Fumes are falling, smell them burn
Like always, yes always.
Now here!
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Cause I know it don't read that well.
And I know only time will tell, me.
I got buried; no it won't be long before I rise in
I got buried; no it won't be long before I rise in song!
And I know it don't read that well! YEAH!
I got buried; no it won't be long, before I rise in
I got! Oh Buried! Oh no!
Cause I know I got you!
Photos
Artist: Esther Phillips
Artist: Pack
Artist: Hiram Bullock