As lonely as a poet on the Walls of Jericho Or the moon without the comfort of the stars I am loathe to know it that a man without a soul Is nothing but
As lonely as a poet on the wall of Jericho Or the moon without the comfort of the stars I am loathe to know it that a man without a soul Is nothing but
Traduction: Cradle Of Filth. L'homme Byronic.
: As lonely as a poet on the wall of Jericho Or the moon without the comfort of the stars I am loathe to know it that a man without a soul Is nothing
[Verse 1:] Lord, how are they increased that trouble me, many are they that rise up against me. Many there be which say of my soul, there is no help
[Verse 1:] Lord, I love to call You holy, for holy is what You are to me. Lord, I love to call You holy, for holy is what You are, yes, holy is what