Air becomes hollow. And orange flash Pale in the moonlight And flying fast Witches burning In vanilla smoke Heritage wounded And I am told The virus flies every night God of death To village find Women and children The vanilla smoke All is orange flash From the brown oaks Rub
Read MoreAir becomes hollow. And orange flash Pale in the moonlight And flying fast Witches burning In vanilla smoke Heritage wounded And I am told The virus flies every night God of death