The Gold Recedes

 

🎵 The Gold Recedes

Líricas:

The light was a fever, a tremor in the night. Burning out the edges, stealing all the sight.

I let it run its course, I let it bleed its cold. Until the story faded, until the lad it's told. Now the darkness is the anchor, now the void is the floor. I don't need the burning, I don't need the roar.

Letting the void reclaim the shape, letting the lad it's dissolve, letting her be.

Letting the void reclaim the shape, letting the lad it's dissolve, letting her be.