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Borgo Pass
Witnesses
'Twas here 'neath heavy fog
In barren marshlands
They warned me to ne're go near
As a young boy
They warned me
But here I fell in love
In love with you as a young boy
Ne're meant to go near
But where to now?
There's just so much blood
We never prey on the weak
Unlike them we are
Heroes to the poor
A voice for the meek
With sharp nails
And ancient memories
They've come to tear us apart
To say their prayers
And perform their rites over me
Me they will send to God
But I am hero to the poor
And a voice for the meek
I have sharpened my nails
In hope that we would meet
I am hero to the poor
And a voice for the meek
I have sharpened my nails
In hope that we would meet
I am hero to the poor
And a voice for the meek
I have sharpened my nails
In hope that we would meet
Enviada por Jon. ¿Viste algún error? Envíanos una revisión.
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