The shortest hour The exit suite We dread tomorrow When life has turned When night runs We fear the dawn A liaison Time near stops We hide to light each other's warmth Phantom limb The years are hurting me
Vyšlo na albech
The shortest hour The exit suite We dread tomorrow When life has turned When night runs We fear the dawn A liaison Time near stops We hide to light each other's warmth Phantom limb The years are hurting me