PHOEBE
"I suppose once upon a time it wasn't. Long before we were here." she said with a sigh. Before the first war. Before the Voice. Before. That was the epitome of what the Hollowed Grounds represented. It was a before place, not a now place. So why this Jack thout the Hollowed Grounds was a worthwhile venture, she and Melita might never know.But the Nightingale laughed at Melita's excitement and insistence, handing her up one half of the rock. "Here you are, we split the spoils." she said with a grin as she stood. "I don't know. My niece agreed to help me craft something though." she said with a shrug. "What about you?"
Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of : cost
There's a couple of things get: lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will
Still, why am I not happier?
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of : cost
There's a couple of things get: lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will
Still, why am I not happier?
