CryGods
The Machine In The Garden
The gods are crying and the clouds are blowing overhead
The gathering in black for the mourning of the dead
Rain falling in torrents bringing life to the ground
No way to break the feelings to which I am bound
A single black dress flows whispfully in the wind
The woman underneath her heart as black as sin
No way to understand the feelings she has found
No way to break the feelings to which she is bound
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