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DescriptionThe men who are passing by
The men who are passing by, mother They always sent me postcards From Bahamas, mother The men who are passing by all the time Are musicien, artist painters or often comedians.
The men who are passing by, mother Offer me always a lovely room With a deck, mother The men who are passing by I feel That their heart's on low tide Desires like an ocean.
The men who are passing by, yet I would like to steal one For a month for a year The men who are passing by, mother They give me nothing more than money.
The men who are passing by, mother Their love nights are stars Who leave traces, mother The men who are passing by, violent Are always the ones who kept A childish heart, losing.
The men who are passing by, yet I would like to steal one For a month for a year The men who are passing by, mother They give me nothing more than money.
The men who are passing by, mother Have a smile that look a little Like grimaces, mother The men who are passing by disturbing Leave me always with my dreams And my earlier fears.
The men who are passing by, yet I would like to steal one For a month for a year The men who are passing by, mother They give me nothing more than money.
The men who are passing by, mother The men who are passing by, mother The men who are passing by, yet The men who are passing by, mother
The men who are passing by, mother They always sent me postcards From Bahamas, mother The men who are passing by all the time Are musicien, artist painters or often comedians.
The men who are passing by, mother Offer me always a lovely room With a deck, mother The men who are passing by I feel That their heart's on low tide Desires like an ocean.
The men who are passing by, yet I would like to steal one For a month for a year The men who are passing by, mother They give me nothing more than money.
The men who are passing by, mother Their love nights are stars Who leave traces, mother The men who are passing by, violent Are always the ones who kept A childish heart, losing.
The men who are passing by, yet I would like to steal one For a month for a year The men who are passing by, mother They give me nothing more than money.
The men who are passing by, mother Have a smile that look a little Like grimaces, mother The men who are passing by disturbing Leave me always with my dreams And my earlier fears.
The men who are passing by, yet I would like to steal one For a month for a year The men who are passing by, mother They give me nothing more than money.
The men who are passing by, mother The men who are passing by, mother The men who are passing by, yet The men who are passing by, mother
