Blown Light

Blown Light - Festival

Written by：Powell

Run down below

Wait to go

Our water's left

In watering

The time at all

Run down to you

The walks go on

And all is moved

And every trees make rows

We emulate

Refills our souls

Where we went on the saddest day

At least that means we'll wait again

They'll find us in the deepest wood

We'll leave a trail of where we sleep

The day before us

Leave again

Inside his body

We'll relate

Please tell her I'll come home

Please tell her I'll come home

Please tell her I'll come home

Please tell her I'll come home