1. |
Tiny Empires
02:55
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Tiny Empires
Our fathers build tiny empires
For hallowed names and royal lines.
Could we really be your perfect sons
Or the ones just waiting for you to die?
And like weeds, we grow feral,
But you can taste what the soil came from.
And how we fall sterile
Terrified by what we will become.
The walking shadows, the poor players,
The sound, the fury; Sugar, spell it out.
But If its really all for nothing
Then nothing is what we're all about.
And like weeds, we grow feral,
But you can taste what the soil came from.
And how we fall sterile
Terrified by what we will become.
What will become of your setting sons?
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2. |
No Direction Home
02:38
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