How long can I contain This wretched that no cure can tame Feel it coursing through me still Never knew that I could be so ill Your wings are over me
Μετάφραση: Pale Saints. Παπούτσια Μαλλιά.
to cure your ills would take more will than ours gold dust at my feet grease in my hair shoes of black leather kiss me again my sweet and make my pale
