Folk Song

текст песни Sundays

summer sky and a throat bone dry
and the fields are all gold
dusty lane with a song in my brain
and it stoned me to my soul

I climb higher move towards the fire.....blaze sun

silver trees and a whispering breeze
are my sight and my sound
the thought of heaven couldnЎЇt drag me from the path
when IЎЇm wandering here alone

I climb higher move towards the fire.... so blaze sun

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