Write down your dream of a powder-hill on a foggy windowpane
Snow shakes the light off wistful and wan
You left the hearth to put your head on the glass
I would question who would not be moved by
Whispered brilliance that each word exudes, my...
Snow shakes the light off wistful and wan
You left the hearth to put your head on the glass
I would question who would not be moved by
Whispered brilliance that each word exudes, my...