Nete Thahe

Rookie [Truth Betold]

On And On

Playing my vocal chords in a mute ochestra on a radio show
I host Angels' talk ain't cheap at the time of the night so
We let the tapes roll beneath our feet
as we glide on airwaves
Pulling the moon across
the night sky white-washing its darkness
Painting our dreams with moonshine
A New Dawn sets our spirits free we are children of the Sun
The Son is of our Father we call him us

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