Little black bird that sullies the earth; depart to where deserts converge
The ending of war, detains to befall; sustain their endeavor to fall
Hunting for the black september
Hunting for the black september
Hunting for the black september
Hunting for the black september
Render your wastes, on the spires of pray; garnish the lands of dismay
Claims of bequest emerge in contest; absolve and relinquish distress
Hunting for the black september
Hunting for the black september
Hunting for the black september
Hunting for the black september
Herald of prey, give rise to decay; ascend the afflictions of fray
Besmirch and appease, contribute relief; forsake a solution of peace
Hunting for the black september
Hunting for the black september
Hunting for the black september
Hunting for the black september
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
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