- cifra
Stones would play inside her head
And where she slept,
They made her bed
And she would ache
for love And get but stones
La la la la la la la la la
Lordy, child
A good day's comin'
And I'll be there to let the sun in
And bein' lost
Is worth the comin' home
La la la la la la la la la on stones
You and me, a time for planting
You and me, a harvest granting
The every prayer ever prayed
For just two wild flowers that grow
La la la la la la la la la on stones
Mmmmmmmm.....
