You tell me that you'll leave-
But you won't
You tell me I should breath-
But I won't.
It's strong, it's lovely,
It's hurting and it's warming
The way you touch me softly
The way you make me storming.
It stucks, it snores
It breaks and draws
The way you close the door
The way you start the war.
It's cold, it's cold, it's cold
And my soul is getting bold
'Cause my blanket is like torn
To cover me from storm.
Ajouté par Wind le 13 octobre 2011 à 19:02 —
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savoir-sans-frontieres
une pierre à l'édifice de la culture
Ajouté par Michel Truffer le 2 octobre 2011 à 20:32 —
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