Opeth "Dirge For November" testo

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Dirge For November

Lost, here is nowhereSearching home stillTurning past me, all are goneTime is now

The omen showed, took me awayPreparations are done, this can't lastThe mere reflection brought disgustNo ordeal to conquer, this firm slitIt sheds upon the floor, dripping into a poolGrant me sleep, take me underLike the wings of a dove, folding aroundI fade into this tender care

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