Come as you are
218
Sing to me...
She was a poetry girl I adored
Late at night I'd hear songs from her window
Myrrh and frankincense seeped through her door
And they lingered on
As her fingers caressed her guitar
Felt like the strings of my heart she was strumming
With her words we made love from afar
As she sang her song
Comentarii (0)
Autentifică-te ca să comentezi.
Niciun comentariu deocamdată.