Testo: The Clientele. Six Of Spades.
When the fog comes rolling
through the avenues
something leaves my mind
gifted in November underneath
the elms in all the dying lines
The mirage and the echo
of the life we live
gently leaving me
break the fever, square the lines,
strange geometry
through the avenues
something leaves my mind
gifted in November underneath
the elms in all the dying lines
The mirage and the echo
of the life we live
gently leaving me
break the fever, square the lines,
strange geometry
Clientele (The)
Clientele (The)
Altri interpreti