Background Pony #41AE
high guaedian spice?
Step on the concrete
They seem to all be
On corresponding beats
I never though I’d see the
Blue skies and grass and trees
We all were captive for so long
That we forgot this fleeting feeling
Wide open arms are reaching
Above this joyous screeching
This sound that has to mean
One purely gorgeous thing
This crowd is finally free
We finally escaped the masquerade