про моё безрассудство даже пишут стихи
On the third day he took me to the river
He showed me the roses and we kissed
And the last thing I heard was a muttered word
As he knelt above me with a rock in his fist
On the last day I took her where the wild roses grow
And she lay on the bank,the wind light as a thief
And I kissed her goodbye,said, "All beauty must die"
And lent down and planted a rose between her teeth...
He showed me the roses and we kissed
And the last thing I heard was a muttered word
As he knelt above me with a rock in his fist
On the last day I took her where the wild roses grow
And she lay on the bank,the wind light as a thief
And I kissed her goodbye,said, "All beauty must die"
And lent down and planted a rose between her teeth...
-
-
29.09.2011 в 15:40