of revolving doors. Every warning we ignored. Drifting in from distant shores. The wind presents a change of course. A second reckoning of sorts. We were wasted waiting for. A comedown of revolving
Bài hát PaintThe Town Green - The Script. I know you’re missing home. It’s been so long since you’ve been. And that life you had in Dublin. Now ain’t nothing but a dream. To be right there in the
windmills of your mind. . Like a tunnel that you follow to a tunnel on it's own. Down a hollow to a cavern where the sun has never shone. Like a door that keeps revolving in a half forgotten dream. Or
door that keeps revolving. In a half forgotten dream,. Or the ripples from a pebble. Someone tosses in a stream. Like a clock whose hands are sweeping . Keys that jingle in your pocket. Words that jangle
revolving. In a half forgotten dream,. Or the ripples from a pebble. Someone tosses in a stream. . Like a clock whose hands are sweeping . . Keys that jingle in your pocket. Words that jangle in your
revolving. In a half forgotten dream,. Or the ripples from a pebble. Someone tosses in a stream. . Like a clock whose hands are sweeping . . Keys that jingle in your pocket. Words that jangle in your
that you follow. To a tunnel of its own. Down a hollow to a cavern. Where the sun has never shone. Like a door that keeps revolving. In a half-forgotten dream. Or the ripples from a pebble. Someone
that you follow. To a tunnel of its own. Down a hollow to a cavern. Where the sun has never shone. Like a door that keeps revolving. In a half-forgotten dream. Or the ripples from a pebble. Someone
. In the windmills of your mind. . Like a tunnel that you follow. To a tunnel of its own. Down a hollow to a cavern. Where the sun has never shone. Like a door that keeps revolving. In a half
