Artist: The Most Serene Republic
It's too late I'm G
8 up all my choices crybaby.
We all just pens and fingers, for a eulogy of those been befores.
How does one stay tall today with addiction to shortness?
When you rush you won't feel its keep, permanence is two.
In that two is a living one, the system so ambival.
Sadness gardens happiness so now we are the weeds
|3||A Mix Of Sun And Cloud|
|4||Battle Hymn Of The Republic|
|5||Sherry And Her Butterfly Net|
|6||Agenbite Of Inwit|
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|4||Benefit of the Doubt|
|5||Failure of Anger|
|6||Nation of Beds|
|1||Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros|
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