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Birdman

In the cradle of each day she Dreams she is Dreaming

The Sweetest Sound of All

The Inertia of Embarking

Untitled (Enigma), no. 3

He’s part of nature, you have to remember that

Two summers ago I think I met a fawn

Selling her soul to the devil

What do you think happens to our souls when we die? I don’t know… maybe the moon collects them and turns them into stars