thirty two.
Our stars, they stole them from their beds
With light chasing behind
Shadow hands grabbed hold their heads
Dragged them to the sky
And climbed back into night
Our stars, they killed them in hovering seas
Past moonlit skies and carbon trees
Our stars, they set them all on fire
Made the world a wraith's hot pyre
And ashes trickle through the air
Onto the ground, into our hair
And we awake dressed up in white
Living dead in morning light
Unable to focus our eyes,
And waiting for the night
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