There was a rider who loved to live and ride On mean black horse’s back He wanted night skies and liked to get high While riding his heavy track
All his life he met the strange black night Who said he was a saint All the time he felt his breath He felt the breath down in his neck
He was a driver who loved to live and drive A very long lonesome road He made no progress and had no idea Of the direction that he rode
He became a fighter who loved an evil goal And the wars in which he fought He led the wild hordes and served the black saint With all his evil thoughts Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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