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The Gleam, Pt. 2

de The Microphones

quiet beach/soaked through and through
feel on my waist your wet hand
surprised we both survived
later, our burning bodies made a glow
and we rose as smoke/and then as a puff of ash
we drifted out over the sea where it hurts to much to look/it hurts to try and see
at that point we could just step into the gleam
(aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwweeeeeeeessss)

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