Pink Floyd

198 18 3
                                    

Time

Home, home again
I like to be here when I can
And when I come home cold and tired
It's good to warm my bones beside the fire
Far away across the field
The tolling of the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
To hear the softly spoken magic spells.

Canciones RockDonde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora