The Interior Lyrics – Inca Babies
Singer: Inca Babies
Title: The Interior
Wounded souls lie in my box,
I curse the man who put them there
Drowned and burnt not dead not dead
She scratches the tears from her eyes
Oh, in the interior don’t shout
The tongue is scorched
To the bitter root
Of the Interior
I throw them out
They grow and grow
She has the wounded souls
And, oh
She recalls the bitter root
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Lyrics Inca Babies – The Interior
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