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Whispers of nature
A little flower blooms in the grey room
She always called me hers
My mother, an angel Charlie couldn't keep,
Explaining the process
Wiping the soil off her skin
They say we have the same hands
The same Whispers of nature
Her...
She always called me hers
My mother, an angel Charlie couldn't keep,
Explaining the process
Wiping the soil off her skin
They say we have the same hands
The same Whispers of nature
Her...
