Text písně The Dear Hunter: His Hands Matched His Tongue

His Hands Matched His Tongue


A long walk home, riddled with regret
Uncommonly comfortable, but still I believe that in time I'll see just whats been weighing down on me
An unearthy void, collapsed, exposing what was trapped, to release this serendipitous dissent
The smell of smoke, the evening sky was bruised Belated conversation, saturate anticipation for the answers that simply wont come, but not I, I wont ask Forget my place amongst the grass The leaves and the trees remember me and in my na?33







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