Marc Bolan şarkı sözleri

The evenings of Damask are falling The youth of truth chest Feeds a starling With his heart. A chosen man begged by the wayside A horse came soon and died before him And said eat. The icy claws of earth are crawling Upon my baby's brow and calling Please come home. The boy unlike the man was smiling For gulleys, streams and hills would hide him Like a swan. A vagabond, a weaver warrior Produced a loom, a cheese and chopper And said choose.

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Marc Bolan

Albüm Görseli

Futuristic Dragon