Tall Like Tyrion - Hands Of Gold | Текст песни

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• Tall Like Tyrion
• Hands Of Gold

He rode through the streets of the city
Down from his hill on high
Over the winds and the steps and the cobbles
He rode to a woman's cry

For she was his secret treasure
She was his shame and bliss
And a chain and a keep are nothing
Compared to a woman's kiss

For hands of gold are always cold but a woman's hands are warm
For hands of gold are always cold but a woman's hands are warm

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