Summer days were just a magazine, a magazine
A magazine
Cutting grass for gasoline, for gasoline
So I can see ya soon
Fall swooned
Left me drunk in a field
Dandelion wine for a year
And I packed up the dust
Of all that I owned
Handkerchief hung from a pole
I rolled out the day that the apples fell
Aún no hay comentarios,
¡escribe el primero!Para hacer una pregunta o dejar un comentario sobre esta canción, debes estar LOGUEADO