Black ghost, that girl
The Indian feather she reflected
Crashed into candles that she melted onto one connector
From the walled-up
Evening's dolled up
Silver calls oh yeah
Oh yeah
Black went, that world
When suddenly it came for collection
Your flowers were folded
To serve by the coming collection
From the walled-up
Evening's dolled up
Silver calls oh yeah
May I stay a while in the sun
Your cloud
Writer(s): Caleb Dillon
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