REDWOOD REiDER
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we are dust from stars, sitting on the ground round fire
so close my warmth bleeds into yours
it's a myth that things are just what they seem
                                              and this world will be
                                                                     whatever we can agree
                                                                                      to dream.

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  • home
  • about
  • hear
  • watch
  • prose
  • gigs
  • blog
  • contact