Under the Northam Lights

I am sitting on a hill
And the sun sits on another
He reaches out to touch me
With a thousand finger rays
I spend a night of passion with the moon
But she has slunked away
Her kiss still cold upon my lips
But the memory is fading
All strange things become familiar
And familiar things get strange
There's no point to fight the madness
Under the Northam Lights



Credits
Writer(s): Dawid Kahts
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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