When shooting stars fall
We celebrate the death of light
With a fingertip raised towards the sky
Or a wish upon the lips.
When the light died in your eyes
I celebrated it
By pouring oil
Into my flame.
I swore my light would never be extinguished.
We celebrate the death of light
With a fingertip raised towards the sky
Or a wish upon the lips.
When the light died in your eyes
I celebrated it
By pouring oil
Into my flame.
I swore my light would never be extinguished.
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