DESCRIPTION:
Land with no drainpipes
There's a girl with a flute in her throat
She's only in bloom whispering by the command of a ghost, ghost
She dares not speak knowing that this would unfold
The lack of a voice, genuinely hers all alone

Land with no drainpipes again they are switching their seats
A new order to what has bored them enough, where's the news
So she, buys herself a skeleton to simply believe
There once was a shape underneath our infinite possibilities

Bring her snowstorms
Bring her back, back to the chain
Bring the dictator
Who is now sleeping in vain

Bring her snowstorms
Bring her back, back to the chain
Bring the dictator
Who is now sleeping in vain

Bring her snowstorms
Bring her, bring her back to the chain
Bring the dictator
Who is now sleeping in vain