Print

Lucy, where are you now? Are you hiding? Born in the fire, babe Poetry on our graves I forgot so many names, but I'm trying I think it's time to go the bartender's leaning slow and maybe he doesn't know that you're blinding I need a night alone The wind through the trees alone But as if the glass alone, slow and shining Lucy, where are you now? [x3] Are you hiding? From Letras Mania