Here it Comes
“My feet are planted in the waist-high reeds
In the shadows in the shape of trees
Through the kingdom’s smoky leaves
You’d be laughing too if you could see
On the outskirts long and lean
Not baring gifts on a jet black steed
“My feet are planted in the waist-high reeds
In the shadows in the shape of trees
Through the kingdom’s smoky leaves
You’d be laughing too if you could see
On the outskirts long and lean
Not baring gifts on a jet black steed
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