wind. She grew up int the country. You could see it in her innocent grin. . Run Preciosa, Run for love. The olive trees need rain. Memories of your gypsy past. Still ride on the midnight train
wind. She grew up int the country. You could see it in her innocent grin. . Run Preciosa, Run for love. The olive trees need rain. Memories of your gypsy past. Still ride on the midnight train
