In the circle of dying time there's a thinning of salt. What was kept from slipping in will be soaring out. A color that can't be described. A power that can't be denied.
This is the hunger and I'll feed. What died long ago I gladly sold 'cause I want it all.
Radiating with blinding light a newborn spreads its wings and beneath the starving crawl to taste of better things.
Writer(s): Christopher May, David Marchand, Steven Grecco
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