Disc 1 | ||||||
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1. |
| 3:59 | ||||
2. |
| 6:18 | ||||
3. |
| 3:11 | ||||
4. |
| 3:57 | ||||
5. |
| 1:45 | ||||
6. |
| 3:14 | ||||
7. |
| 2:47 | ||||
8. |
| 5:32 | ||||
9. |
| 1:10 | ||||
10. |
| 2:49 | ||||
11. |
| 2:00 | ||||
12. |
| 2:47 | ||||
13. |
| 3:33 | ||||
A patch of red-orange iodine
moves into a clotted sky Don't give in just yet A group in service uniforms stand outside a wooden door she's laughing, "it's over... time has been strange, oh..." last things last is not enough, you can't accept this Don't give in just yet I hope that last things last past these first charms these pale charms I hope that last things last a hook or a flake to hold on so you don't break |
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14. |
| 2:18 | ||||
15. |
| 3:39 | ||||
16. |
| 2:13 | ||||
17. |
| 2:38 | ||||
18. |
| 6:05 | ||||
I was thinking about it again the other day
I'm not sure of I can't remember the name It was down the street from my apartment and I used to go by there pretty often once a month or so It was set back from the street by a courtyard garden with a winding path a stone gazebo and four or five trees It had beautiful tall windows and red stone walls I never went inside It was clear to me that I should keep it as it was in my imagination: the most peaceful place |
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19. |
| 2:28 | ||||