need your summary acts, summary acts To give into the narrative age Old to begin I will set you back, set you back, set you Old to begin I will set
Превод: Тротоар. Стара На почетак.
sound from the pavement Has the moon lost her memory? She is smiling alone In the lamplight The withered leaves collect at my feet And the wind begins
sick That I thought that I would die And I almost did too First me knees begin to tremble My heart begin to pound First my knees begin to tremble My heart begin
In a white room with black curtains Near the stations black roof country No gold pavements tired starlings Silver horses ran down moonbeams In your dark
sound from the pavement Has the moon lost her memory She is smiling alone In the lamp light The withered leaves collect at my feet And the wind begins
sound from the pavement Has the moon lost her memory She is smiling alone In the lamplight, the withered leaves collect at my feet And the wind begins
from the pavement. Has the moon lost her memory. She is smiling alone. In the lamplight the withered leaves collect at my feet And the wind begins to
gets the mansions? We get the ruins Same old story Who gets the mansions? We get the ruins Same old story, same old story, same old story And the king
the pavement Has the moon lost her memory? She is smiling alone In the the lamp light, the withered leaves collect at my feet And the wind begins to
the stove on And fun begins to cook Barefoot walks in Baltimore With empty pocketbook Laugh at sizzling sidewalks Don't step on the cracks Old folks
Not a sound from the pavement Has the moon lost her memory? She is smiling alone In the lamplight The withered leaves collect at my feet And the wind begins
from the pavement Has the moon lost her memory? She is smiling alone in the lamplight The withered leaves collect at my feet And the wind begins to
from the pavement. Has the moon lost her memory? She is smiling alone. In the lamp light the withered leaves collect at my feet. And the wind begins
And you see the corner of her eye twist like a crooked pin Silence - not a sound from the pavement
sound from the pavement Has the moon lost her memory She is shining alone. In the lamplight the whithered leaves collect at my feet And the wind begins
In the white room with black curtains near the station Black roof country, no gold pavements, tired starlings Silver horses ran down moonbeams in your
