I leap toward the south yeah
And attempt to burn my bridges
Way down to the equator
And back up north with the wind
I'm travelin'
And the last I heard twelve sad stories
From disciples of the sun
And we rang the bell
And fired the gun
To worship the perfect and sometimes cruel
Impartiality of the sun
Bu döküman AkorMerkezi.com'da yayınlanmıştır. http://www.akormerkezi.com