Slow down the sunrise and keep the tone, Put the cold in my bones, Watch as the fear is flown, And your mind is beautiful child, Stay still until they find it out.
The smell of wood is in the air. The 19th century atmosphere. My hair is up, my feet are bare. The 19th century atmosphere.
[Intrumental break]
The smell of wood is in the air. The 19th century atmosphere. My hair is up, my feet are bare. The 19th century atmosphere.
[Intrumental break]
The smell of wood The smell of wood The smell of wood The 19th century