Lily of the Valley
Call me something beautiful,
Clover, the kind that grows on graves
Wind, from the heart of a hurricane
Fire, wild, in seconds devours
Passion, the kind that completely enslaves
Call me something you can’t live without,
Water, rain, rivers, waves
The kind that fills your lungs...
Clover, the kind that grows on graves
Wind, from the heart of a hurricane
Fire, wild, in seconds devours
Passion, the kind that completely enslaves
Call me something you can’t live without,
Water, rain, rivers, waves
The kind that fills your lungs...