I feel a local Despairing sloth, and feel it well (Suno v3 alpha + ReRites)

The owl, retraces semblance: and I feel a local Despairing sloth steal, and feel it well. [VERSE] And a black ramp song sings a brook of concentrated rubble. The first form? Probably the last. The trees don’t matter to me. Pastures, will be our young truth. Assorted falls in the new resigning. [FADE OUT] [END]