From radioactive people
Spillages form, radioactive pools that pockmark
The land
When I think all’s lost
I reach, G, salvage your hand
From which grows resurrected compassion’s
Branch
And you make me feel loved
From radioactive people
Spillages form, radioactive pools that pockmark
The land
When I think all’s lost
I reach, G, salvage your hand
From which grows resurrected compassion’s
Branch
And you make me feel loved
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