Svētā miskaste - Komentāri
Sestdiena, 20. Maijs 2006 22:20

Flowers fell burning From the young girls' hair
He was whispering Into his god's ear
Let the children be so Let the children be so
And the lamplight flickered flickered And his mother withered like Job
And he lay there dreaming And the blossoms fell
And Tilak's trumpet Proceeded to call
And the blossoms fell And they dropped like candy
And the people cried Gandhi Gandhi...


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