robert-kingsley

Scottish

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When The Moon Is DeadIn the gloom of the night my weary soul lurked around searching for yours. / I walked across a black river beneath the dark sky. / Tortured souls coming to the surface screaming out for redemption.

21

735

Young LoversYoung lovers died in the sun / Sorrow was how they had fun / From each other they had run

9

716

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