The Silhouetts, We'll Never See

Tell no one of this foreign land

where the stars are drenched in kerosene,

to burn brighter every night.

Where laughter flutters like the birds in September.

Where the land is darker,

and the skies are brighter,

only to emphasize the silhouetted beauty.

The contour of the unknown float above, and we take it as we'd like.

Only to create trouble.

The End

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