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level 5 in the center of the sound she´ll travel through the darkness of a spinning wheel til her ears are slowly dying in this velvet she can´t hear and in the storm that´s carryin´ her across the border running upstairs but she was always reaching level 5 opened chests are singing hymns of morning it´s so strange to touch a sunbeam with organs bare she´s cutting out her heart to enjoy the silence and in the flesh of death she´ll see no sin across the border running upstairs but she was always reaching level 5 Words: vogeltanz 1995 |