Bruce DickinsonOctavia

I'm vacuum-breathing and open-mouthed As the red shift fills my eyes Minister my promises As her shadow cuts the day away I remembered you, as you walked into that room Dislocated, jagged pieces Are sliding into this broken mind Swimming back against the river But I'm rising with the tide Where we came from, we're all going back there soon How many times have we met this way? How many lives have we lived before? How many faces and how many names? Shadows come, but shadows are gone Shadows come, but shadows are gone How many times have we met this way? How many lives have we lived before? How many faces and how many names? Shadows come, but shadows are gone Shadows come, but shadows are gone
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