I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
shower of ashes,
rumors that My child was born in the world
Oh, mental masses, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on.
Little flowers are hanging again.
Blood is running, yeah.
Your heart is making me go.
Yeah.
We're suffering too.
Your heart is making me go.
