The Pysche

(Yeah yeah)
I strayed to far away from the source I was forced
To find myself back but the track was off course
Through thorn torn breast I had bore I was lost
And tossed by a sea with a storm on its top
By rocks wrecked riven with moss of the shore
Came across to crags where the land locked
That led me to a miraculous moor
Where greenery started soon as the sand stopped
I then beheld the ruddy orb of the east
While everything was calm until it had sunk
Far beneath the margin of the woody steep
Dawn had spawn the martin with its somber song

Pinions up on high
Through the blue concave
Please unleash your dust
Over the mundane
Earth with purple robe
Shrouding half the globe
Here I ruminate
Though melancholy most-ly
Though melancholy most-ly



Credits
Writer(s): Andrew Ruiz
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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