The Byrds![]() |
Eight Miles High |
Eight miles high And when you touch down You'll find that it's Stranger than known Signs in the street That say where you're going Are somewhere just Being their own Nowhere is there to be found Among those afraid Of losing their ground Mean grey town known for its sound In places small places unbound Now the squares of moving storms Some laughin Some just shapeless forms Sidewalk scenes And black limosines Some living and some standing alone |
![]() Vytištěno dne: 19. 04. 2025, 14:47:16 Tento text najdete na adrese: http://www.midisoubory.cz/ |