Speak Low sounds like burning hot July nights
where all was still except for trees swaying gently in the breeze
the absence of the sun painted everything in black and white
I remember those nights and the quiet lonely feeling as I hear the sirens
where all was still except for trees swaying gently in the breeze
the absence of the sun painted everything in black and white
I remember those nights and the quiet lonely feeling as I hear the sirens
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