through the ceiling soon. The window sees trees cry from cold. And claw the moon But we know don't we. And we'll dream won't we. Of Montague Terrace in blue The girl across the hall makes love. Her
through the ceiling soon. The window sees trees cry from cold. And claw the moon But we know don't we. And we'll dream won't we. Of Montague Terrace in blue The girl across the hall makes love. Her
