memento mori
frustrata
le fevré
take pay heed
nothing can and always will
the idle march their idle march
the cup that brims can't fill
falling stars
in the streetlight
I thought were frost
corrosive salt
falling stars
always falling for the one in leather gloves
skin, cloth, leather, skin
black leather gloves
let danse the macabre
let triumphe le mortè
as I am so shalt thou be
memento, memento mori
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