empty. post.

Alle skulle fått en sangtekst 
i postkassa
minst én gang i uka.

Et tynt papirark.

Ord. 
Bare ord.
De blir nye
- uten lyd.



Keep the steets empty for me

memory comes when memory's old
i am never the first to know
following this stream up north
where do people like us float?

there is room in my lap 
for bruises, asses, handclaps
i will never disappear
for forever, i'll be here

whispering
morning keep the streets empty for me
morning keep the streets empty for me

i learned to not eat the snow
my fur is hot, my tongue is cold
on a bed of spider web
i think about to change myself

a lot of hope in one man tent
there's no room for innocence
so take me home before the storm
velvet mites will keep us warm

whispering
morning keep the streets empty for me
morning keep the streets empty for me

Tekst: Karen Drejier, Cecilia Nordlund

Fever Ray

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