She sighs, breaching a birth that will send her ill
Township sings of the swift apple blossom year
To reach out swim toward some spinning bled in strange she moves too

Up rise in bended light
Dance the streets of gloom to sedate
Cast our seeds

Compass tilts like a war over Coventry
His wife stirs, orbiting up past the marble sea
Brake two needles that bruise the veins
Oar resounds that she moves

Up rise in bended light
Dance the streets of gloom to sedate
Cast our seeds onto the rocks
And pray our graves will welcome us


Lyrics submitted by Yattering

The Marching Of The Clocks song meanings
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