In the evening She calls for time A beckoning Upon each cozy corner Talking ones ??a cocking hit?? Oh oh In the morning She crosses lines ??Of cocking
But not too quick A factory moment But not to climb the six ??? oh oh... In the evening She crosses lines With smacking lips Round each cosy corner Tiger
Превод: Гуидед би Воицес. Пролеће Тигрови.
