Let
A
Andrew Blakemore
0
Altın Yaprak
Snow is falling
A cold wind blows,
On silent streets
So filled with woes,
I walk the night
I wish would end,
Without a home
Without a friend.
Each bell I ring
Get turned away,
Nowhere to rest
Nowhere to stay,
The room is let
No vacancy,
No place to go
No place for me.
Bu şiiri puanla
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