mode moderne - thieving baby’s breath lyrics
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your crumbs will lead you forever lost
while our dust runs rife with cold
i return to my fangs because
i love them most
and our blood runs thick with gold
lean low to her lips…
thieving baby’s breath
the faces may change that
the torture remains
i express my shame in abstract ways
this torch had more use than
seeing in the dark
as it met the head of a sleepy dilettante
lean low to her lips…
thieving baby’s breath
you must learn to separate
forever from nothing
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