The snow won't stick to the weeping willows the cold air won't blow open the windows You've made it through the storm this far You can do this, dear
The snow won?t stick to the weeping willows the cold air won?t blow open the windows You?ve made it through the storm this far You can do this, dear,
Tulkojums: Kuš Sound. Raudošs vītols.
ink, until you sink into your crib Rowing along, among the reeds, among the rushes I heard your song, before my heart had time to hush it! Smell of
ink, until you sink into your crib Rowing along, among the reeds, among the rushes I heard your song, before my heart had time to hush it! Smell of a
of ink, until you sink into your crib Rowing along, among the reeds, among the rushes I heard your song, before my heart had time to hush it! Smell of
