Freakazoid Skeleton…

PLANET MOON:

Once the world has ceased to move.

And the moon becomes a distant and ancient friend.

We’ll be singing about it’s pleasures.

When there was a distant shore.

Your tide flow nourished.

Only sought by your magnetic ambition.

We ritualized on the monthly shaman.

Your hair glowed with a torture so full.

Moon has risen all in awe.

On every night that the clouds are invisible.

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