If you could imagine A castle drenched in sun A place in which, many hands Turn the Wheel of One
Once inside the gates, The meadows are aglow Poppies, sage, peaches and rose; Alchemy for a foe
It's morning, she's mourning She is trying her best to hide It's morning, she's mourning
“I don't want to go, I don't want to go I don't want to go, I don't want to go I don't want to go under the oak tree, through the veil I can go everywhere, everywhere”
Hands unbound, through space unrest But the oak tree wears a mourning dressTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
