The sky has scrapers now
The streets are made of clothes
Embroidered on every single sleeve
Some of us have seen
The Golden Arrows poised
Arc across the plaints
Turns us pale
Some of us have seen
The Golden Arrows poised
Arc across the plaints
Turns us pale
So this is where the
shapes begin to drip
Her drunk teeth
fluttering in the wind
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Thanks to alexandra_feaa for these lyricsThe streets are made of clothes
Embroidered on every single sleeve
Some of us have seen
The Golden Arrows poised
Arc across the plaints
Turns us pale
Some of us have seen
The Golden Arrows poised
Arc across the plaints
Turns us pale
So this is where the
shapes begin to drip
Her drunk teeth
fluttering in the wind
Correct these lyrics