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Ghosts In My Blood
When the ghosts in my blood sleep
in a sea of frozen salt
the curfew of the dead tolls
my poetic synopsis at roll call
listening to the blustering wind
at the end of the tunnel
where the light of the candle flicker
life's little echo...
now who will replace the Fritos
when the ghosts in my blood sleep
in a sea of frozen salt
the curfew of the dead tolls
my poetic synopsis at roll call
listening to the blustering wind
at the end of the tunnel
where the light of the candle flicker
life's little echo...
now who will replace the Fritos
when the ghosts in my blood sleep
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