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The wind from the north, flattens the yellow corn. |
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You come into the house, with your dress torn. |
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I can see you now, as through a screen. |
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A smile on your face, your fingers dripping kerosene |
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Your hair hangs down, over me. |
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Your hair casts a shadow to cover me. |
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I can see you now, as through a screen. |
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A smile on your face, your fingers dripping kerosene |
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The wind from the north, cools me. |
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The wind from the north, doesn't fool me. |
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I can see you now, as through a screen. |
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A smile on your face, your fingers dripping kerosene |
