it started to rain so the soil turned cold
I prayed to God , anyone my hand to hold ?
Some fine vodka I drunk , mysteries began to unfold
Then I spoke of legends and stories untold
that I was guarding from ages too old
A bard I am , playing a lyre of gold
Δεν υπάρχουν σχόλια:
Δημοσίευση σχολίου