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The Veils
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The Leavers Dance
Lyricist:Finn Andrews
Berenice my hands my feet are worn as much as yours are And though my head, my hands, my heart are forming They still feel worlds apart
Berenice beneath it all you're golden and thats all I'm feeding on And though my head my hands are growing colder We move in circles now
Berenice theres no release at all thats not worth dying for And it's not for our desires but our design that we all fall apart
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