is in her eye The night is no her hair And like a love-sick lenanshee She hath my heart in thrall Nor life I owe, nor liberty For love is lord of all
in her eye, The night is on her hair. And, like a love-sick lenanshee, She hath my heart to thrall: Nor life I owe, nor liberty, For love is lord of all
Tulkojums: Charlotte Church. Mana Lagan Love.
in her eye, The night is on her hair. And, like a love-sick lenanshee, She hath my heart to thrall: Nor life I owe, nor liberty, For love is lord of