Я готов поспорить, что ты моешься голой. Шлюха.





Where the moon concealed by night,
Tracks are covered with snowstorm,
With no any torch alight
You will find way home.

You have freedom of wind.
You have purity of dawn,
At the end of your long trip
You will find way home.

Ah...

Where the sun concealed by rain,
Tracks are covered with rainstorm,
At the end of your long sail
You will find way home.

I will think of you and wait,
I'll light beacon every nigh,
At the end of your long sail
You will see this light.

@темы: музыка