Mustiness - Rara Avis

The loft is breaking, my hands are sweaty
The Faces shine on the screen like lighter
Then the powder will make me pretty
My bones will burn and burn much brighter
Where the nights are calm and glary?
Where the voice is yours?
So this storm is what I adore
It is like restarted porn
So this storm is what I adore
It is life under my blackthorn
The shotguns say they like the lies
Poverty, blood, carnivorous flies
Cold dust, cold trust
Are sparkling with the dead
Big black-silver scissors cut on
rear glass on road to cold kingdom
Where the hills are shelter from old
latent shards from filthy wide bottom
Where the nights are calm and glary?
Where the voice is yours?
Where the voice is yours?
Where the voice is yours?
So this storm is what I adore
It is like restarted porn
So this storm is what I adore
It is life under my blackthorn