Chelsea Wolfe

Little Grave from Birth of Violence

when i was a little one i’d follow you into the sun i held your hand you held me then i went outside you never saw me again sunrise sunset sunrise sunset touch not ye my little grave for mama is now far away they lay me there and there i lay you can’t fight guns with guns - we’ll all perish that way sunrise sunrise sunrise sunset and the blue dreams keep on calling me sunrise sunrise sunrise sunset

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