Hunter G. K. Thompson - Clouds Тексты

Clouds look like mountains your eyes they look like stars
We will fill our hands with clay and try to shape our hearts
Seeing life through windows touching panes of glass
Crying toward our children to teach them from our past

Oh the sun came down to rest
To make room for winter at last
We'll all hush the summer to bed
And we'll all breath our last breath
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