Слова:
Holy Mother The Memory Dies

fury of it escaping the truth Where life turns cold You know when your memory dies Where fire flows Where life turns cold You know when your memory dies

There was a boy who came into this world At the hands of a holy woman in a holy place He wore a red coat and walked a bulldog Saw them reflected in the

There was a boy who came into this world At the hands of a holy woman in a holy place He wore a red coat and walked a bulldog Saw them reflected in

: There was a boy who came into this world At the hands of a holy woman in a holy place He wore a red coat and walked a bulldog Saw them reflected