The fire is led by the embers up wind, up wind
Scolded by November, porous is my frail skin
Stone ground coriander
Reminds me you’re the only thing I’ll ever need
Until the day comes
Poor me, poor you
An arson, an umbrella
Poor me, poor you
You’re the person I owe everything to
The oak is swung by the wind
Is above the debris
The low rise and the sea
A slow tide to the knee
A coal fire and a seat
I’m homebound but I’m weak
I’m so loud but I’m weak
I’m so loud but I’m weak
Poor me, poor you
An arson, an umbrella
Poor me, poor you
You’re the person I owe everything to
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