Dirty doves drink from golden chalices, discuss the state of things.
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Talks of empires, towering spires, and what it is that dethrones kings.
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Bring me the head of he whom worships Judas.
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Paint over his eyes, he¡¯ll never see love again.
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Sew up his mouth, the dragonflies have revenge¡¦
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Pluck the wings. Crack the scales.
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Tonight!
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The morning hails, wipe the charcoal from sleeping eyes!
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We must unfurl the sails!
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The whitest wing hears lovely things¡¦
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He¡¯ll be seduced by the Sirens¡¯ wails.
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It¡¯s like a shipwreck with no crew left and the Captain¡¯s floating by me, baby.
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Saviors over my head, don¡¯t leave me for dead! Take this message to my lady!
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"Oh Susannah, won¡¯t you cry for me. I am lost and I am lonely floating here at sea."
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The good ship Asphyxia brought white clouds of hope, yet now it sleeps.
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Love is lost in the wettest grey, this island¡¯s only hope is that he will wash up someday.
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Burning fields and skeleton trees are screaming at our doors
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telling stories of forgotten friends on distant shores.
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End their lives; end their pain,
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For the ravens will reign,
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Forevermore.
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(Curse Of) The Horse Latitudes Pt. II
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| A Girl A Gun A Ghost |