The ocean's swelling at the rate of the rising sun. We'll run to the highlands, to a diseased ambition. Now they're drowning, in their own decadence, choking on emptiness, flooded with ignorance. (No one will know what has been lost)
The ocean's swelling at the rate of the rising sun. We'll run to the highlands, to a diseased ambition. Now they're drowning, in their own decadence, choking on emptiness, flooded with ignorance. (No one will know what has been lost)