The wind was whipping shingle through the windows in the town A hail of stones across the roof, the slates came raining down A blade of light upon the
Vertimas: Pogues. Girtas Laivas.
beneath my feet And the only sea I want to sail Is the darkned pond in the scented dusk Where a kid crouced full of sadness Lets his boat go drifting
my feet And the only sea I want to sail Is the darkned pond in the scented dusk Where a kid crouced full of sadness Lets his boat go drifting out
