Между мыслями

The Starry stone, the melting air. The forest doors beyond au pair. The synth and night is old and bright. And maybe I'm the serpent light. The sky is burning, Burnt and blue. The stars are speaking from the dew. No need for promise, No daylight. This calling me to make it right. The sun is rising, We are loud. The dream is lifting all the crowd. The clouds are shaking, the earth is so. They make us start, the end of all. The sky is done, the sky is art. A frontal birth, we freely start. Work and white, the dawn is sea. This perfect beat in nomady. The river flows beneath the stone. A place we'll find, it's where we've been in The earth. The stars above, it's deep and white. The dream is lost and make it right. The sky is done, the sky is art. A frontal birth, we freely start. Work and white, the dawn is sea. This perfect beat in nomady. The sun is rising, We are light. The dream is lifting all the crowd. The starry stone, the melting air. The stars are speaking from the bear. The sky is done, the sky is art. A frontal birth, we freely start. Work and white, the dawn is sea. This perfect beat in nomady. The sun is-