A Salvation Army band played And the children drank lemonade And the morning lasted all day, all day And through an open window came Like Sinatra in
A Salvation Army band played And the children drank lemonade And the morning lasted all day, all day And through an open window came Like Sinatra in a
Gods on high, behold...! To thee I reach for might Long ago in the northern lands They sacrificed for might Brothers Three who killed to give Mortals
Had a northern lad, well, not exactly had He moved like the sunset, God who painted that First he loved my accent, how his knees could bend I thought
delight of the moon is burning inside spiritless I lay on cryptic stones mesmerising snow wait silent above me and my yearn for frost grow strongly. I
hör mal hast du das gehört so gehört sich das duendlich mal wieder echte bordmusik zu schöngeht einem direkt ins mark hat mir all
Day turns to night And I turn on my side To face my wife and child Home to hold you tight Beneath the stars That shine so bright in northern skies Here
Men of faith, rise up and sing Of the great and glorious King You are strong when you feel weak In your brokenness complete Shout to the north and the
There is a place where evil lives, There are woods where people die, At midnight blood is more precious than gold. In the Northern Carpathians.
(McNabb) Travelling overseas I was accosted by a student Who asked me where I came from, she was pretty Children don't put smack in your veins Lennon
Ca me donne des frissons, Chaque fois que j?entends le son. Ca me coupe au fond Comme les scies qui coupent les grands sapins. Dans le Nord canadien.
Smoke it flies from whiskey mouths Vagabonds walk this suitcase town Summer left us beckoning The cottonwoods were all worn out Night comes fixing on
Men of faith rise up and sing Of the great and glorious King You are strong when you feel weak In your brokeness complete Shout to the North and the
Had a northern lad, well not exactly had, but, He moved like the sunset, God who painted that. First he loved my accent. How his knees could bend. I thought
Je m'affale sur la scene Le pere Fouettard est mort Mais on apprend la haine Dans nos livres d'histoire On devrait s'amuser A detraquer l'ennui A tout
3am and eighteen years old, some town in Northern France Fifteen pounds across the sea and back We were not looking for no answers, just fun Like a
[Lyrics: Demonaz. Music: Abbath, Demonaz] Delight Of The Moon Is Burning Inside Spiritless I Lay On Cryptic Stones Mesmerising Snow Wait Silent Above