Voices are rised to drown the silence By the light of a lamp in a gloomy backroom Glasses are filled to drown the loneliness On a spotted, old table where things lie without stir
It is the place where the musicians feel Finding no one but each other and the comfort of shared pain It is the place where the dawning of day Brings a soft sleepy air of weariness and an odd desire to take a rest.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
